ina i iiiiM ij i>
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
[In the chapter "A Glimpse of Forster, Carlyle and BroT\iiing"
Qse has been made by the Author of an article by him appearing
in a recent number of the Contemporari/ Review.]
MEMORIES
CHARLES DICKENS
WITH AJf ACCOUNT OF
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
AND
'ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
AND OF THE
CONTRIBUTORS
THERETO
PERCY FITZGERALD, RS.A.
BRISTOL
J. \Y. ARROAYSMITH LTD., Quay Street
LONDON
UPKIN, MaR^iiALL, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Limited
WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
RELATING TO
CHARLES DICKENS.
TWO ENGLISH ESSAYISTS : CHARLES LAMB AND
CHARLES DICKENS. 1863.
RECREATIONS OF A LITERARY MAN. 1882.
HISTORY OF PICKWICK. 1891.
MEMOIRS OF AN AUTHOR. Two Vols. 1894.
BOZLAND. 1895.
PICKWICKIAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. 1897.
PA\aLIONSTONE. 1902.
BARDELL t;. PICKWICK. 1902.
JOHN FORSTER. By One of His Fkiends. 1903.
PICKWICKIAN WIT AND HUMOUR. 1903.
MEMOIRS OF JOSEPH GRIMALDI:
By CHARLES DH KENS. Edited, with Notes 1903.
THE PICKWICKIAN DICTIONARY. 1903.
firiit PiMisheil U.13
'ore wore
It may seem a bold thing to say, and a self-delusion,
but I doubt if among all the existing records of
Dickens's domestic life — and they are many — there will
be found any that give such a picture of his character
and manners in private life as is to be found in
the sketches that follow. They are " intimate "
as well as observant. Forster wrote officially, and in
his stately way " put behind him " all mere domestic
details as highly trivial. Others, such as my
friend IMarcus Stone, have not been " trained to the
pen," to the difficulties of noting traits of character,
though orally no one could exceed him in his warm,
genuine portraitures of his friend. Mine, I say
unaffectedly, is the truest picture existing of the man,
because I have long been well schooled to observe
shades of character, emotions and feelings, as well as
to record. Again, then, I could almost venture to
say, in a certain sense and to a certain degree, I was
more privileged than others with a deal of his engaging
confidence, a thing delightful now to think of. He
was always pleased to unfold himself to me with a
gay freedom and humour, chiefly, I really believe,
because I somehow contrived to touch old sympathies
of his to which he found others not responsive,
because they did not understand him, but which to
him were the most sacred things.
The note of " childhood " and its recollections, so
precious to him, can be traced in all directions, and the
334341
FOREWORD
sympatliy shown by another for this tender penchant
of his was, I firmly beUeve, the cause of his indul-
gence to myself. I propose, in illustration of liis
most interesting character, to give a special series of
domestic pictures and sketches of him in his vie intime,
which I think has not been done hitherto to any
extent. It will be seen presently that I was a
privileged person in manj' ways, and that to me he
showed many facets of his delightful nature, and
of which there is no record to be found elsewhere.
I see no reason why I should not strive to increase
the general love and admiration by setting these
sketches before the public.
In the pages that follow will be found a very
abundant collection of his letters — near fifty or so —
addressed to myself, and showing all the sides of his
character, overflowing with humorous allusions, sly
jests, gentle reproofs, happy satire, and, above all,
constant assurances of a regard — a regard that was
proved by a never-relaxing indulgence.*
Percy Fitzgerald.
Odoher, 1913.
* It is difficult to speculate what was in Dickens's mind when he adopted the
practice of using a numeral word instead of a figure to mark the date of his letter.
He adhered to it without fail to the day, literally, of his death, with this additional
peculiarity, that ho used blue paper and blue ink, and blue lettering to his paper.
I suppose the verbal form of the numeral appealed to his eye as being the most
emphatic form. Even " Esq." was always in full as " Esquire."
Contents
Page
CHRONOLOGY OF DICKENS'S PRINXIPAL LITERARY WORK . xiii
I. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
CHAPTER I
FIRST INTRODUCTION TO " BOZ." HIS DOGS. FESTIVITIES
AT gad's hill 1
CHAPTER n
THE DAY AT KNEBWORTH. AFFECTION FOR CHRISTMAS. THE
B.\NGOR SHIPBROKER 19
CHAPTER ni
author's NOVEL FOR " A.Y.R." SIR E. BULWER LYTTON'S
APPRECIATION. DICKENS'S RELISH OF GROTESQUE
SITUATIONS AND STORIES. "THE DREADFUL DOCTOR."
" THE MILLER AND HIS MEN." " OLD ROGERS." LOSS
OF WILLS . . 32
CHAPTER IV
THE READING TOURS. A PLEASANT COMEDY SCENE. HIS
INDULGENT TOLERATION OF THE AUTHOR AND HIS
GENTLE REBUKES. " THE DOCTOR'S MIXTURE " . 56
CHAPTER V
CLOSING SCENES. THE DINNER PARTY AND CONCERT. HIS
LAST DESPONDING LETTERS AND DE.\TH . . 76
CHAPTER \T
A GLIMPSE OF FORSTER, CARLYLE AND BROWNING . . 84
CONTENTS
II. "HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
CHAPTER VII
A NEW DEPARTURE. DICKENS AS AN EDITOR .
CHAPTER VIII
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS " FOUNDED, 185O ....
CHAPTER IX
FIRST ISSUE OF " HOUSEHOLD WORDS." EARLY NUMBERS .
CHAPTER X
THE " EXTRA CHRISTMAS NUMBERS." GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
DICKENS'S METHOD OF EDITING. A " CHILD'S HISTORY
OF ENGLAND." AMONG THE EARLY VOLUMES .
CHAPTER XI
DETAILS OF THE~EDITING
CHAPTER XU
DICKENS'S CHARITIES. HIS TOLERANCE AND GOOD HUMOUR
AS EDITOR. HIS OWN CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE JOURNAL.
A CRISIS APPROACHING 177
III. "ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
CHAPTER XIII
THE " PERSONAL " DISPUTE. EXTINCTION OF " HOUSEHOLD
WORDS " AND FOUNDING OF " ALL THE YEAR ROUND " 189
CHAPTER XIV
SIR E. BULWER LYTTON'S NOVEL 209
CHAPTER XV
THE author's SERIALS 220
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XVI p^,
SOME OF THE AUTHOR'S JOURNALISTIC EXPERIENCES.
HUMOURS AND WHIMS OF EDITING. THE LOSS OF
WILLS AND OF ARTHUR SMITH. " THE UNCOMMERCIAL
TRAVELLER." SUPPRESSION OF " THE CHRISTMAS
NUMBER." THE NEW SERIES 227
CHAPTER XVII
EXTINCTION OF THE TWO JOURNALS .... 244
IV. ACCOUNT OF THE LEADING
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
CHAPTER XVIII ^
G. A. SALA AND WILKIE COLLINS 253
CHAPTER XIX
BOZ'S LADY CONTRIBUTORS : MRS. G.\SKELL, MISS MARTINEAU,
MRS. LYNN LINTON, GERALDINE JEWSBURY . , . 267
CHAPTER XX
ROBERT LYTTON, CH.\RLES READE, HARRISON AINSWORTII,
WILLIAM JERDAN, ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER . . 278
CHAPTER XXI
EDMUND YATES, HOGARTH, ANDREW HALLIDAY, GRENVILLE
MURRAY, ROBERT HAWKER, WILLIAM AND MARY HOWITT 289
CHAPTER XXII
LE FANU, WALTER THORNBURY, H. F. CHORLEY, COVENTRY
PATMORE, CHARLES LEVER, JAMES PAYN ... 301
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXIII
THE TROLLOPES, C. H. TOWNSHEND's BEQUEST, HORN, ^'*'
CHARLES KENT, HENRY MORLEY .... 312
CH.VPTER XXIV
BOZ'S METHODS OF " DECLINING WITH TH.\NKS " . . 322
V. CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
CH.\PTER XXV
CH.^RLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS ..... 335
APPENDIX A
THE STATEMENT OF MESSRS. BRADBURY AND EVANS WITH
REFERENCE TO THE " HOUSEHOLD WORDS " DISPUTR . 361
APPENDIX B
DICKENS'S OWN CONTRIBUTIONS TO HIS TWO JOURN.\LS . 365
Illustrations
FACE PAGE
Photogravuke Portrait of the Author Frontispiece
Portrait of Charles Dickens (aged about 50),
FROM A hitherto UNPUBLISHED PHOTO . 17
Facseniile of Letter from Charles Dickens
TO Author ...... 52
"Household Words" Office . . . 125
" All the Year Round " Office . . 197
Facsimile of Letter from Charles Dickens
to Author ...... 224
Bust of Charles DiCKEirs, by the Author,
IN THE Pump Room at Bath . . .331
CKronology oi
Dickens's Principal Literary Work
1833. First published piece of crating, A Dinner
at Poplar Walk, in the Monthly
Magazine. Followed by nine others
in same journal.
1834. First article under the signature of " Boz "
(in Monthly Magazine).
1835. Contributions to the Evenijuj Chronicle
under George Hogarth.
1836. Sketches by Boz (published by Macro ne).
Sunday under Three Heads.
Village Coquettes (opera published).
1836-37. The Pickwick Papers (in monthly parts).
1837. The Strange Gentleman (Comic Opera).
Is she his Wife ? or Something Singular
(Comic Burletta).
1837-39. Oliver Twist (in Bentley's Miscellany, which
he edited during that period).
1838. Sketches of Young Gentlemen.
Memoirs of Joseph Grimaldi.
1838-39. Nicholas Nicklehy (in monthly parts —
Chapman and Hall).
1840. Sketches of Young Couples.
1840^1. blaster Humphrey''s Clock, including the
Old Curiosity Shop and Barnahy Rudge.
1841. The Pic-Nic Papers (Edited).
1842. American Notes.
1843. A Christmas Carol.
CHRONOLOGY OF DICKENS'S LITERARY WORK
1843^4.
1844.
1845.
1846.
1846-48.
1848.
1849.
1849-50.
1852-53.
1852-53.
1854.
1855-57.
1859.
1860-61.
1864-65.
1869.
1870.
1857.
1860.
Martin Chuzzleivit (in monthly parts).
Evenings of a Working Man.
The Chimes.
The Cricket on the Hearth.
Pictures jrom Itahj (originally appeared in
Daily New.-!, of which he was the first
editor, from January 21st to February
9th).
The Battle of Life.
Dojnbei/ and Son (in monthly parts).
The Haunted Man.
Began publication of Household Words
(March 30th).
David Copperfield (in monthly parts).
Bleak House (in monthly parts).
A Child's History of England (in Household
Words).
Hard Times (in Household Words).
Little Dorrit (in monthly parts).
Abandoned Household Words and began the
publication of .4// the Year Round.
A Tale of Two Cilies (in All the Year Round).
Great Expectations (in All the Year Round).
Otir Muttial Friend (in monthly parts).
Religious Opinions of the lute Rev. Chauncey
Hare Toicnshend.
The Mystery of Edwin Drood (in monthly
parts).
The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices
(with Wilkie Collins, published in
Household Words).
Hunted Doivn (in All the Year Round).
The Uncommercial Traveller (1st Series in
All the Year Round. Other papers
under the same name were also con-
tributed bv him at later dates).
I
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Memories oi Charles Dickens
CHAPTER I
FIRST INTRODUCTION TO *' BOZ. HIS DOGS.
FESTIVITIES AT GAD's HILL.
It seems a curious or, perhaps, an unusual thing in
the i-ecord of survivorship, that at this moment there
should be living but one only of Dickens's many literary
friends — the last of a large group. Mr. Marcus
Stone, R.A., who was a very dear friend of his, and the
son of a dear friend, still lives ; but there is no one who
was intimately bound up with his literary work, and
at the same time an intimate friend, save one, and
that person is myself. I think it a fortunate thing that
this survivor should not be one of those casual
acquaintances who met him and passed on his way, but
a trained scholar of his — a pupil — and received always
as a friend and intimate, on quite a different footing
from that of professional companions who served
under him, and regarded him with a " distant and
awful respect." I insist on this little difference to show
_:•;....• MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
with what superior advantage I was enabled to
associate with him.*
I may here just sketch out the incidents which first
brought me into connection with Charles Dickens and
his journals — a trivial matter enough, but of interest to
myself as showing his long course of generous kindness
to me, and one which changed the whole course of my life.
I was then a 3'^oung man of eager literary tastes
and enthusiasm, an ardent reader and student, a
writer too, as I fancied — for had I not ■v\Titten one
paper in Chambers' Edinburgh Journal ! How proud
that made me. I had just read with enthusiasm and
delight the story of Goldsmith's life, Avritten with great
charm and romantic feeling by a barrister named
John Forster, who, it was announced, was following it
with a Life of the great Dean Swift. Now here again
I was enthusiastic. I was in Dublin, a city which at
that time, nigh fifty years ago, literallj' abounded in
relics and memorials of the Dean, but which have long
since been swept away. A strange youthful notion
came into my head that T might serve the biographer in
my own way. At this moment can be seen in the South
Kensington iMuseum a number of water-colour sketches,
rather spirited and effective, of all these localities —
Marsh's Library, where he read, and where he made
"marginal notes;" Hoey's Court, where he was born;
St. Patrick's, where he officiated — I even went down to
* Since his death, now over forty years ago, I have never relaxed storing up
records and memorials of him. These are to be found everywhere, and in all shapes.
In the Pump Room at Bath is a bust of him by myself, really a fair likeness.
Another is at Rochester in the Eastgato House, which I think is worth noting,
as it supplies the pained, strained look which his features wore in his last days.
Here, too, is my large Dickens Library, with other relics and curios, presented to
the rity. Rochester might have had a large bronze statue of my own making
placed in the open street to show to all visitors the city's connection with the
novelist, but for the protests of his own family. At the Prudential Ofliocs in
Ix)ndon, which are built on the site of the old Furuivals Inn, where Hoz had
chambers, the directors have placed yet another bust of my work under the
entrance archway. These testimonials prove that 1 am not deficient in grateful
feeling to ray eminent master and friend.
2
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Celbridge and sketched there. There were manuscripts
also. In short, I made up a useful collection and,
boldh^ daring, sent them to the biographer, who was
enchanted. On the day that packet arrived in town I
gained a valuable friend for life — later and through him
his friend, even more valuable — thousands of pounds
in cash, a new, lucrative and enjoyable profession, a
reputation — such as it is — that spread even to the
States. No wonder that I often look at these little
sketches as though they had been a magic talisman,
for to them all was owing. His projected Life of the
great Dean, however, never got beyond the first
volume : the author was alwaj's collecting for it, but
had never collected enough.
Dickens at that time was in his full glory. Every
eye was turned towards him. He was a figure in the
State, It is really impossible to give an idea of his
attraction. His books were public assets : each green-
coated number as it came out was literally devoured
by an admiring community. And this particularly
should be borne in mind : that all his special quips and
humours were then utter novelties — such as had never
been heard before ; now, after fifty or sixty years'
reading, we are well accustomed to them. His sayings
were all taken into common talk and became
proverbial (the father of a family, perhaps, being named
in the home circle " The aged P."). Nowadays we
can hardly realise all this. We have nobody of such
magic temperament to look to. Even a George
Meredith excited no such emotion.
I may say here that he indeed was a lucky
beginner who was so fortunate as to secure the friend-
ship of so influential and remarkable a man as John
Forster. Finding that I was engaged in writing articles
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
for trifling magazines, he took charge of a short story
and undertook to put it before tlie great man of
Household Words. I\Iy friend, as Avill be seen later, was
a tremendous, over-powering personaUty, burly in
figure : a great human argosy, he " bore down " on
all and carried his May. With him there was no trifling
or putting off with excuses, especially where a friend
or protege was concerned. It was long a tradition of the
Household Words office how the great Forster strode in
one day, his stick sloped over his shoulder, and, casting
down the paper, bade them sternly see to it that there
should be no official subterfuges, circulars and the like,
it nivst be considered and read, mark you ! At this
time it seemed that the journal was a sort of mare
clausum. Evervone sent their contributions ; whole
sacks arrived which it was impossible to deal with.
But though it Avas professed in a " consolation circular "
that the returned paper had been read and considered,
it is likely that the judgment was founded on other
elements, viz. the subject, title, writing, and perhaps
a glance at a page or two. At the same time, Boz was
willing to welcome any really new style of writing
whatever, no matter whence it came, and with this
aim in view relied on the aid of intelligent friends who
would introduce talent. By a happy chance that paper
exactly suited the taste of the editor, and was really
considered a striking success, so that I was on the
instant required to help in the riiristmas number then
impending ; and I really think, during the thirteen
years that followed, it must have put into ni}' hands
many thousand pounds — the liberal guerdon of the
ever-generous Boz.
In all the inscriptions under the many busts that I
have made of him, I have always proudly set out that
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
they are the work of " his friend and pupil." Pupil !
some will cry ; that is surely an exaggeration. But it is
the exact truth. For instance, each of the five or six
novels I wrote for him was planned and debated with
him — the characters, the story as it advanced, the
embarrassing tangles which he resolved, the very titles.
Then every line almost he revised and corrected.
I often turn back and think with emotion of his gentle
tolerance, and how he would spare me when I was often
seriousl}'^ in fault. I have had a long experience of the
panorama of life, and have seen pass before me and by
me an endless train of acquaintances and pseudo-
friends and friends of every degree ; yet I will con-
scientiously say, as if on oath, that I never met anyone
to approach Charles Dickens in his kindly, affectionate,
generous behaviour. No friend that I ever had ever
treated me as he did : I can actually say that he never
refused me anything. As his son Henry once said in
pubhc, I was " a favourite of his." Why, I know not.
There was no caprice — he was the same ever, when —
I blush to own it — at times I took things rather easily
with him, and stood aside.*
From this point may be shown in detail the stages
of this most precious intimacy, lasting on nigh fifteen
j'ears, to within a week or so of his death.
For a long time I was in the ranks of the common
contributors to his Journal, and with the rest was at
an admiring distance ; but on one of his reading tours
he chanced to pass by our way, and I received some-
what formal but kindly letters from him.
* As when one night at a country theatre I persisted in sitting by myself in a
shady corner, and leaving him alone the whole night because my eyes were
excessively weak. He was hurt, I saw, but it made no difference to him. He
had wonderful patience and bore with everybody, and that patience I tried often.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Gad's Hill Place,
HIGHA3I BY Rochester,
Kent,
Monday, Ninth A^lgust, 1858.
My DEAR Sir,
I am exceeding]}' obliged to you for your kind note,
and I cordially assure you that I have received it with
much pleasure and interest, as coming from a fellow-
labourer whose \\Titings T highh' esteem.
I am not the less sensible of your proffered hospi-
tality because I cannot accept it. But my tour is of
such a verj' fatiguing nature that I know it to be
impossible to unite any social enjoyments with its
business. I have, therefore, forsworn all pleasure
engagements whatsoever during its progress. I accept
no invitations, see no one, and am perfectlj'^ heroic
against my nature and my will.
Believe me.
My dear Sir,
Faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzgerald, Esquire.
The reader may like to have my first impressions
of this unique man — written I suppose some fifty years
ago — which I found in an old Diary.
Tuesday.
One of those red-letter nights in mj^ life was last
night, when I heard Dickens's charming and artistic
and refined performance — perhaps enjoyed it more
than anything for some years. Those exquisite bits
of humour of his own seem to me as if incapable of
being pointed by anyone else, for he seemed to give
them that point and emphasis which the author alone
could do, which we lack when reading ourselves — not
the farce actor's smart turn and rapid cockney
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
snunciation, which now sceins to be the proper fasliion,
)ut a slower, richer humour. Everybody was dehghted,
■nchauted — convulsions of the most genuine laugliter
md keenest enjoyment I have ever witnessed.
Thursday.
This has been a gala week with me by reason of this
;reat man. Saw him in street on Tuesday, and spent
. feverish day tracking him about the town. Then
iTote and received back such a note ! Good nature
nd geniality in every line — announcing too that he
i^ould call on me this day.
Friday.
Dickens came not after all, but good-naturedly sent
lis card by post. Saw him walking along across town
nd stepping out gallantly like a man, but had not
ourage, by reason of Smith, his agent, who was with
im.
Monday.
Made a bold resolution that I tvould go this morning
nd waylay him at South-Western Railway. Walked
bere, at last saw a cab arrive with portmanteaux on
oof labelled CD. and A.W.W.S. Charles D. got out.
[e was in a check suit : he looked a fine, bold, well-
lade, sturdy, striding Englishman, with the redness
lot of paint, as we fancied) but of glowing health on
is face. I watched nervously till he was by himself
banding at the carriage door reading a newspaper
[ see him now), then screwing up my courage, went up
3 him : "I beg your pardon, Mr. Dickens, but my
ame is Percy Fitzgerald." A violent and hearty
laake, up and down, from him. " How do you do ?
am very glad to see you," etc. (All spoken in a strong
burr " or accent.) Ego : "I hope you will excuse
le, Mr. Dickens, but I am going to Paris to-morrow
3r a couple of months, and I should have been dreadfully
isappointed not to have seen you and spoken to you."
[e said that he had just been to Belfast. " Tremendous
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
houses, curious people, they seem all Scotch, but quite
in a state of transition. 1 walked a long way by sea to
Carrickfergus. Had a letter from Forster yesterday.
He 's worried to death with old Landor's business.
(Laughs.) What a pity." " Yes," I say, " and he is
so wrong-headed." " Yes," says Dickens, snatching
at the word, " that 's it : so very \\Tong-headed, and
yet there 's a great deal behind that. He 's the finest
and most chivalrous old fellow in the world ! " " You
know him well ? " " Lord bless you, yes ! Known
him for years. Why it was all to protect a poor gover-
ness, nothing else." "Is he rich ? A mark for the
damages ? " " Lord, no ! Not he ! He won't pay
a penny of it. He is in Florence now — has signed over
every halfpenny of his fortune. You have seen the
case ? " Then comes up Smith. Introduction.
" Mr. F. says there was another train," etc. " By the
way," says Smith, " it was Mr. F. that we were going
to ask to do that little job for us." " So it was," says
Dickens, "so it was — to get us the jaunting-cars — one
for him, one for me. We were going to write to you.
Such a nice way of seeing the country ; but someone
else in Belfast managed it. He said it would be much
cheaper than in Dublin." Then, abruptl}'', " Well,
Forster is deep in the Swift ! I tell him he '11 never get
through it. But he does go at a thing with all his
soul."
I mention that " I have seen an advertisement
showing it was somewhat near at hand." "Oh,
Lord, no. He 11 never have done it, never," And he
was to prove right in this forecast.
He said that he would not be home again till
November. Now I think it time to part, as it is cold,
and so take my leave, receiving another hearty shake.
All the while his words were spoken in a sharp, jerky
way, off-hand to a degree, but very engaging.
It would be impossible to give an idea of his cordial
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
heartiness during this talk, and the perfect genuineness
of his welcome — not, however, more cordial than the
long series of welcomes I was happily destined to
receive from him during a period of many years.
A favourite phrase of his will be noted : " Lord bless
you, sir ! "
I was struck during our talk with the calm, quiet
assurance of his aide-de-camp, a strong man evidently,
with a strong arm to lean upon — invaluable to Dickens.
I noted, too, the uneasy twinkle in Boz's eye as he
heard my first words — he had been waylaid — caught
by some enthusiast — then instant relief.
Declining all hospitality offered to him, he wrote to
me as follows : —
Morrison's Hotel,
Tuesday evening. Twenty-seventh August, 1858.
My dear Sir,
A thousand thanks for your letter. But my availing
myself of your kindness is quite impossible. I read
to-morrow afternoon at 3, and you may faintly imagine
(but not sufficiently) what my correspondence is with
London, when I get a few hours to devote to it.
I shall hope to see you before I leave this, that is to
say some time on Thursday morning, when I shall do
myself the pleasure of calling on you. It will give me
great pleasure to assure you personally of the interest
and satisfaction I shall have in seeing you in London
when you come there.
Pray believe that I shall be delighted to know you
better, and that my present determination is a " hard "
one to myself, and is not in the least meritorious.
Faithfully yours always,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzgerald, Esqttire.
Little did I think that later he would write to me :
" It is always a pleasure to hear from you ; and this is
no mere compliment."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
After this fortunate meeting our intimacy grew from
acquaintance into regard or esteem. An unmannerly
attack having been made on him in the Dublin papers
on the score of a harmless Irish sketch — more of which
later — I rushed forward to defend him. He was
pleased, and wrote :
Office of " All The Year Round."
(A WeeJchj Journal conducted by Charles Dickens.)
No. 11 Wellington Street North,
Strand, London, W.C,
Tuesday, Second August, 1859.
My dear Mr. Fitzgerald,
I am heartily obliged for your letter. I had
previously seen it, and felt very thankful to the wTiter.
Of the extraordinary coarse and unreasonable
attacks I have seen on myself personally — so easily
elicited by an innocently meant article in which I saw
no harm when I read it in proof, and the desperate
offence of which I do not even now understand — I will
only remark that they Have amazed me for life. The
English language is really new to me in such an
association.
Many thanks for what you offer concerning the
French Revolution, lint I am at present afraid to look
at those matters of interest ; they might tempt me out
of my story ; and I have its track before me, and am
especially anxious to walk in it.
I shall liope to see you at Gad's, not thirty miles
from London, and if you could spare a day or two for
its fine walks, I and my two latest dogs — a St. Bernard
and a Bloodhound — would be charmed with your
company as one of ourselves.
Believe me,
Very faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzoerai.d, Esquire.
10
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
One point of most attractive interest, which I fancy
made me somewhat interesting to him, was our common
interest in dogs : their ways and adventures. He
would Hsten with never-flagging pleasure to all that
I had to tell him on this favourite topic, and I had
much to tell him. The whole history and adventures
of my own faithful creatures — of Vixen the first and
Vixen the second, as well as of the great Newfoundland
Caesar, are set forth at length in his Journals. This
common delight in the honest tribe was an important
link.
I once MTote a paper for one of the magazines on
his described dogs, giving it the rather happy title of
'■ The Landseer of Fiction," in which were collected
all his telling portraits from Boxer onwards. For this
trifle he was actually unboundedly grateful, and
expressed himself so to me many a time. He felt that
I understood him thoroughly, and in his own way.
With this was blended the old association of the dog
as a performer on the melodramatic stage, where again
I was much at home, and contributed to his humorous
vein. The dear old melodrama, The Dog of Montargis,
how often we talked of that ! He loved these old
melodramas and their fossil methods, and he noted
my enthusiastic sympathies. We both believed in
them. The dog was trained to fly fiercely at his
master's throat, who played the suspected murderer,
and to drag him to the ground, where he appeared to
be ferociously struggling to throttle him. How
pleasantly and with invented comic touches would he
relate a scene where one of these " performing "
animals at this critical point had relaxed in his struggles ;
when his master, lying on the ground over-powered,
could be heard loudly cursing his animal, fiercely calling
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
on him to come forward and seize him by the throat !
How, too, on one occasion the dog, instead of attending
to the imprecation, walked gravely down to the front,
and seating himself leisurelj', panted good-humouredly
and with his distended jaws at the audience.
I myself had a sort of connection with this dog of
Montargis, which amused and interested him. There
was an actor of Irish parts, Hudson, who had a noble,
sagacious Newfoundland with whom he used to play
in this piece, and who, I believe, was much the better
actor of the two. It was noble to see him spring at his
wicked master's neck and bear him to the ground,
where he seemed to be throttling him until he was
dragged off. We were so delighted ^Wth the animal that
he was bought for the sum of ten guineas, and cheap he
was. He did extraordinary things.
You might visit a house and walk away leaving your
glove on the table, after showing it to him. After a
quarter of a mile's walking, all the while surveying
you interrogatively with his noble face, he would, on
being bidden, rush away, force his way into the house
against all obstacles and bring off the article in
triumph ! It was dangerous to interfere with him.
Unhappily he drank some paint, carelessly left about,
a not too sagacious proceeding, and so died. I
had to write all his adventures for the journal —
" The Renowned Dog Csesar." This sympathy I
know was what seriously inclined Dickens to my
humble self. No one else of his set I am certain had
ever heard of the Dog of Montargis or its humours, or
cared about it, nor had they any associations with the
old melodramas, such as The Brigand or the Miller and
his Men, which latter worthy old piece was literally
bound up with his precious childish memories.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
I had made him a present of a great Spanish hound
to be added to his large family of great dogs. He was
delighted with the animal and took him into his
affections. At first Sultan — such was his name —
promised exceedingly well.
" Sultan has grown immensely," his master wrote
to me, " and is a sight. But he is so accursedly fierce
towards other dogs, that I am obliged to take him out
muzzled. Also he has an invincible repugnance for
soldiers, which in a militar}^ country is inconvenient.
Such is the spirit of the dog that, with his muzzle tight
on, he dashed into the heart of a company in heavy
marching order (only the other day) and pulled down
an objectionable private. Except under such provo-
cation, he is as gentle and docile with me as a dog can
possibly be."
He inspired his good master to write this lively
sketch of his performances : —
'■ The other night the gardener fired at some man
in the garden, upon whom he came suddenly, and who
kicked him in a dangerous manner. I immediately
turned out, unloosed Sultan, and hunted the vagabond.
We couldn't get hold of him, but the intelligence of the
dog, and the delighted confidence he imparted to me as
we stumbled across country in the dark were quite
enchanting. Two policemen appearing in the distance,
and making a professional show of stealthiness, had
a narrow escape. As he was in the act of flying at them,
I was obliged to hold him round the neck with both
arms (like the little boy in the snow with the St. Bernard
dog, grown up), and call to the Force to vanish in an
inglorious manner.
" A friend has sent me from America a thorough-
bred young black Newfoundland dog since you were
here. Sultan (who hates him mortally), he, Linda, I and
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
three or four small dogs in the nature of canine parasites
and toadies make a show in the lanes and roads, which
I especially beseech you to come and see. We only want
the renowned dog Csesar to render us matchless.
" I hope your are in force and spirit with your new
story."
The latent savagery of the unhappy mastiff was
presently to break out. One day when a little girl was
passing the gate he seized her and bit her arm
ferociously. She was with difficulty rescued. A court
martial sat upon him at once, to satisfy the neighbours,
and he was sentenced to be shot next morning..
Dickens, though feeling the loss of his favourite,
could not resist the humorous associations of the
scene.*
" Your mention of the late Sultan," he wrote to me,
" touches me nearly. He was the finest dog I ever saw,
and between him and me there was a perfect under-
standing. But to adopt the popular phrase, it was so
very confidential that it ' went no further.' He would
fly at anybody else with the greatest enthusiasm for
destruction. I saw him, muzzled, bound into the heart
of a regiment of the Line ; and I have frequently
seen him, muzzled, hold a great dog down with his chest
and feet. He has broken loose (muzzled), and come
home covered with blood again and again. And yet he
never disobeyed me, unless he had first laid hold of
a dog.
" You heard of his going to execution, he evidently
supposing the procession to be a party detached in
pursuit of something to kill and eat ? It was very
affecting. And also of his bolting a blue-eyed kitten,
and making me acquainted with the circumstance by
his agonies of remorse (or indigestion ?).
♦ Forstcr, always uncompromiMing, loudly expressed his dissent ns to the policy
of the execution. He thought it needless, and he did not see that it was called for
by the community, which is always inflamed in such cases and requires blood.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
" I cannot find out that there is any one in Rochester
(a sleepy old city) who has anything to tell about
Garrick, except what is not truth. His brother, the
wine merchant, would be more in their way."
It is amusing to note how Boz's acute sense of a
comical scene quite overpowered his natural feelings
of sympathy for the unlucky animal. Certainly his
picture drawn of the funeral is richly humorous.
On my first visit to Gad's Hill I cannot forget one
delightful day when I was taken by him as cicerone
round Rochester — its noble old castle, where we sat
among the ruins, he cracking pleasant jests as Jingle
did (I see him now seated on a stone, with the old
ruins rising majestically around him), thence on to the
"Bull" and the Seven Poor Travellers Hospice, where
I was struck with the rather careless, de haul en has
bearing of the woman in charge. I did not at the
moment think that he had just been waging war on
the abuses in the place. She took him certainly very
easily. How Avonderfully, by the charm of his magical
touch and a few lines from his pen, did he give
a sort of perpetual celebrity to a hitherto obscure
almshouse !
We then walked over to Cobham, when he told
me a good deal about the then Lord Darnley, whom he
said he liked, and showed me the chain drawn across
the avenue never removed except for a funeral. This
I am positive he told me, but many years afterwards
one of the family took it up rather warmly, and
protested that such a thing was utterly unknown
to them.*
* There has lately been a controversy as to " Honeymoon Cottage " being the
exact house where he stayed for his honeymoon, a tablet of my workmanship
celebrating the event. On this day I and my pleasant cicerone walked through
Chalk and he pointed out a grotes^iuely -carved monster over some door. But he said
nothing of any house where he had stayed under Buch interesting circumstances.
15
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
There was one matter connected with my pleasant
host which always brought me trouble. That was the
long, the very long walks, at " full speed ahead," to which
I had to submit. At starting all was well ; but the pace
soon began to tell, and I gradually relaxed and fell
behind. This I saw was a great burden on his vigorous
forward progress. He was constantl}'^ looking behind,
not understanding why I could not keep up with him.
I was soon obviously distressed, when he would relax
a little, but presently had shot ahead, while I toiled on
behind — like Johnson's " panting time."
How pleasant and varied were those Gad's Hill
nights. There was ever a festive tone over the place
due to the buoyant spirit of the owner which pervaded
every corner. Witness the pleasant entertainment
when he invited his friends and neighbours to attend
and listen to a sort of rehearsal of one of his readings.
How gay was our dinner, and how handsome and
lavish. His hospitality never relaxed, and the cooking
was always superior. His admirable sister-in-law saw
to this for him, and many were the excellent tit-bits we
enjoyed. After dinner one of the large rooms was set out.
The experiment was to be made as it were in corpore
vili to see how his now selected piece would go down
with a crowd. He chose something out of Barbox
Brothers and something out of Mughy Junction (1 re-
member the sturdy Forster, who never compromised,
saying to me, " I cannot tolerate that refreshment
paper. It seems to me to go over the line. The ridicule
isn't quite fair "). I must confess it — though ever No-
body there was prepared to applaud with all hearts
and hands — the thing seemed a little ineffective. It
was, indeed, felt by all — to conviction point — that it
would not do for performance. He himself at once
16
I
CHAKLKS DICKENS
(aced about 50).
showing Boz ill full lu'iiUhand spirits, with fresh, niiwriiiklcil (
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
iw the failure, and reverted to the old safe
jpertoire.
There were now for me constant repetitions of these
ver welcome invitations, and it will be seen from the
ext letter that one invitation, accepted or not, was
nly to lay the foundation for another from this ever
ospitable man.
Friday, Seventh July, 1865.
[y dear Fitzgerald,
I shall be delighted to see you at Gad's Hill on
unday, and I hope you will bring a bag with you, and
'ill not think of retiu-ning to London at night.
We are a small party just now, for my daughter
[ary has been decoyed to Andover for the election
-eek — -in the Conservative interest ; think of my
jelings as a Radical parent ! The Avrong-headed
lember and his wife are the friends with whom she
unts, and she helps to receive (and deceive) the voters,
'hich is very awful.
But in the week after this next we shall be in great
roquet force, so I shall hope to persuade you to come
ack to us then for a few days, and we will try to make
ou some amends for a dull Sunday. Turn it over in
our mind, and try to manage it.
Sincerely yours ever,
CHARLES DICKENS.
ERCY Fitzgerald, Esquire.
From Diary : —
Of a Visit to Gad's Hill.
August 3rd, 1865.
This day have just come home from dear Gad's Hill,
aving started on June 26th. The old story, a miserable
)urney with the soreness that sets in on the side of the
cart, as I sit confined in the carriage, something so
esolate. But all right so soon as the journey is over.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
I really shrank from it yesterday in London, knowing all
so well.
Such pictures as I was looking back to. Such as
the main street of Stevenage on the Guild day, which
seemed akin to something else seen before — that
community of enjoyment and interest which a common
expedition brings. The two girls above all, and the
dearer Charles, both leaning on his arm in the blue
saloon carriage when going, he listening and chuckhng
at everything, but without talking much.
Charming days — such pictures of that visit to look
back to.
Let me think of the dinner at " Gad's " (as he
loved to call it) after the cricket match, sitting next
Mamie, who called me over as we went in. So pretty
the whole look of the thing . . . Such a night as
that was, that dear Charles so splendidly brilliant in
his finding out words in the " small-plays " game,
such as " The Powder in Gunpowder Plot." He
succeeded in getting at Guy Fawkes, etc., but no
further. Then there was " The Lantern at a Railway
Station." Mine was " The Signpost at the Falstaff
Inn." On another occasion he actually found out
the impossible " left leg of a postilion's boot " I told
him of. He so delighted with himself after they had
gone. Our talk, " je ne change qu'en moiu-ant," which
the lady sent to her lover with a leaf, and which he
ungallantly returned Avith a sketch of a shirt with the
motto, " J'en change tous les jours." This amused
him. . . . Sitting on the grass all day during the
cricket match.
CHAPTER II
THE DAY AT KNEBWORTH. AFFECTION FOR CHRISTMAS.
THE BANGOR SHIPBROKER.
[ RECALL one much-celebrated literary festival, long
since forgotten — and little wonder, for it is nigh
fifty j-ears ago — held at Knebworth by Sir E. Buhver
Lytton, for the opening of a sort of Retreat for old and
decayed actors. All \vriters of whatever light and
leading repaired in force to it, and a delightful, happy
gala day it was. I stayed at Gad's Hill, and came
on with Dickens and his party. What a fair festival
cloud is over it all — a long fifty years ago, and nearly
every performer whose name I recall vanished for ever.
I consult the old Diary again.
" What charming pictures, well worth looking back
to. First the kindness of that charming, amiable family
through the whole day. The rest at Gravesend, their
all insisting that I was to be late. He was reading
Pritchard's execution of the day before — talking to
Collins next me so pleasantly. Then I see myself
walking with them and Collins in the heat from
Charing Cross, I in front with Miss H., up to Regent's
Terrace. Then on to the office with Dickens, who
looked gayer than ever on that day, actively correct-
ing a proof in the omnibus, and then see myself
now buying perfumes for them. At last at Wellington
Street, upstairs where, sitting in armchair, absorbed
in his book we found the placid Charles Collins. The
ladies came in from dressing, as brilliant as possible.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Then going down to look at the huge orange and
red label of Collins's new story stretched out on floor,
Dickens fetching me. (He sapng in his humorous
way that Wills always corrected the proofs of these
monstrous placards, some six or eight feet long, on the
floor, with his chest on a mattress.) He so festive in
dress. Then back to room, wine on table. Then the
presenting me with the gloves — we had had a little bet,
which the ladies lost — each prettily presenting a pair.
I have the whole scene before me. Then our setting
out, I with the two sisters in a cab. I remember the
passing so well through Seven Dials, all the party in
great spirits.
" Such a scene at Great Northern — the huge station,
with the bustle, the vast platform and Wills coasting
and hurrying about with a list ! A carriage was reserved
for us, we hurrying to secure it. Then the strange men,
the Yates's, Halliday's, Hollingshead's, etc., Dickens'
own followers, etc. Charles Knight coming up and
worrying the two girls, a dreadful old man, but Charles
speaking so kindly to him and listening with reverent
look. Yates looking with curiosity at me, as who should
say • How did he get in there ? ' Finally we get off.
" What fun in the carriage during the two short
trips, the green counties flying by, the fine day, and
all in such spirits, jests, etc ; Dickens talking his full
to me ; how he had had his hat * ironed,' sent over the
way to Pitt's. Then putting on his gloves, I pretending
that mine had given way. Getting Dickens to tell
about Ada Menken (I see his face now). More trees,
more green, more country roads. . . . Such stories,
he so jolly, such persiflage. The three opposite looking
so charming and pleased. Then at last we reach
Stevenage, the crowd there at the station. There
20
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
stood Forster, full of importance: the carriage, I and
Collins in our ' rumble.'
" Then the Guild house, the pretty garden, going
over the rooms, the party so confidential and pleasant.
Such a happy day ! Then driving on to the scene of
action through the green lanes, fine trees, etc., passing
policemen ; thence up to the door of grand old Kneb-
worth, like an old Elizabethan palace. We got down,
went in, poured out on the garden at the other side,
where all the company were gathered on the walk.
Dickens so nice, taking the lead, going up to Sir E. B.
standing leaning on his stick. Such a curious fact to
think of myself there. We all wandered here and
there, they meeting that foreign woman ; the gardens
spreading out so charmingly, vases, statues, high
hedges, etc. All the Guilders hanging about. Forster
pacing along in great state and dignity, full of im-
portance. How pleasant it was, the gardens, the look
of the house and the company. Then Forster coming
after a time to take ' Katie ' into lunch. The great
hall, music, they all confidentially angry with me : I,
the intimate friend of that impressive day. Then we
had to troop out. Then at last lunch."
Pursued as he was by all, not to say hunted, Boz very
thoughtfully contrived to bring me upstairs to a sort of
a retired chamber, where we saw an Eastern potentate
sitting on luxurious cushions, with dreamy eyes and
reposeful manner, smoking a chibouk, I think. " I must
introduce you to Sir Edward," he had said, and he did
so ; to his old friend Lytton Bulwer or Bulwer Lytton
at choice. This interesting man received me very
cordially, and was gracious enough to recall and to
praise certain things I had written.
It was a curious feeling to think of myself in such
21
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
a brilliant scene with the background of the old stately-
castle, the enormous crowd flitting to and fro, now in
the house, now in the huge gardens. Our party-
wandering about here and there. Boz in the highest
spirits, gay as a bridegroom with his flower, bright
costume, hat set a little on one side. He was alive to
all the half-comedy impressions. The image of Forster,
who had b}' solemn commission been constituted the
august owner's deputy (the noble OA\nier posing as
though he were too delicate to act as host), delighted
him. I noted Forster moving majestically along, big
with importance. When returning home I half com-
plained to Boz of his lohy, perhaps condescending,
bearing to myself. What did it mean ? " Lord bless
you," cried Boz, in a tumult of enjoyment, " why he
didn't see me ! He wouldn't, I should say. He was in
the clouds, like Malvolio."
I see Forster constantly striding away as on some
awful mission from himself. Later in the day he spared
me a few, very few, lofty words — encouraging too.
Another incident that tickled Boz hugely was our
progress from the station — it was a half mile or so
distant — when in our open carriage we passed the Inn,
newly re-christened " Our Mutual Friend," in compli-
ment to the celebrated visitor. On the rude benches in
front under the sign-post were seated many soi-disant
"literary gents" refreshing themselves, for the day was
most sultry. As Boz passed all rose and acclaimed
him ! What a merry twinkle was in his eyes as he
recognised his "literary brethren" thus regaling them-
selves with their " native pewter," etc. The scene was
droll enough, and had quite a " Pickwick " flavour.
Forster was on grave duty, being empowered to " sort
out " the company into their respective carriages.
22
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
His manner seemed strained, and he scarcely spoke,
so oppressed seemed he with tlie grandeur of his
power.
Looking back to this far-off festive day, I think
nothing so much could show what was the position of
the premier story-teller of the time. Here he was the
centre of all, seeming almost royal in the homage paid
to him. It was well understood that the attraction waa
not in the Actors' Retreat, or in the noble owner, or in
sentiment, but in the one and only Boz, who, aa
he A\Tote on and on, had come to be as much liked and
loved as he was read. Yet there seemed to be thought
nothing extraordinary in the lofty position ; it became,
as it were, a thing of course. We have only to turn our
eyes to the present condition of literary things to be
struck with the contrast. We may now look round in
vain for anyone even of small pre-eminence, or for anyone
with the singular combination of being foremost in all
the arts of fiction, as well as foremost in all the teachings
of peace and goodwill, and in bettering the conditions
of the poorest of his fellow-creatures. Such was Dickens,
And again, who that is at all prominent in the art of
-wTiting books can offer the same spectacle of what
might be termed an ostentatious modesty. Never was
a being thus brilliantly endowed so modest, so retiring
even, so eager to give place to others, to bring forward
others, to listen to others ; in fact, this modesty might
be considered the most conspicuous and attractive
of his many gifts.
" Then," I \vrite in the old Diary, " how delightful
was the general lunching in the great hall — the crowd
pouring in tumultuously, quite eager after their
open-air dancing. Our little party along with the
others."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It was a scene to remember when the two great
artists, sitting side by side, made their afTectiiig speeches,
mostly recalHng the old, old days when both were
begimiing the same career — two obscure youths it
might be called, but of the same age, capturing the
town with two such brilhant things as Pelham and
Pickwick. That was over thirty years before. And
since then, what careers for each ! And there before
us were the two brilliant men together. Not less
affecting was Boz's tribute to the old, old friend and
comrade. At that moment I doubt if they were not
the most unique pair in the land. The one dramatist,
poet, politician, speaker, satirist ; the other— all that
we know. It is a great memory and a happy privilege
for me to have witnessed, and, I might say, to have
taken a minor part in, the scene.
The rest of the lazy day seems dreamlike, but
passed too quickly. The time came when we had to
take to our carriages, somewhere I fancy about nine.
Then came the railway, when Boz genially chatted of
the various comic scenes. How a certain "literary
man," all along a subject of alarm and anxiety from an
almost irresistible failing, had begun to display
symptoms during the lunch, but was adroitly carried
away by the faithful Wills, without giving any scandal,
and sent on his way to the " IMutual Friend." Amusing
too was his description of how so many of the "literary
brethren," finding the amenities at the Castle hardly
to their liking and tedious, had also dropped away to
the same hospitable tavern. The pleasant James Payn,
presently to be a friend of my own, had timidly
approached him before starting for a few words, and
I remember Boz speaking highly of his talent in a new
book called "The Lost Sir Massingberd." Once there
24
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
came a stoppage, in a tunnel I think, and I saw that he
grew much disturbed, and no wonder, for he had
scarcely recovered from the shock of the Staplehurst
catastrophe.
On reaching London, we found that our intrepid
conductor had more enjoyment in store for us, for
placing us in two hansoms, he brought us joyously to the
Household Words office, that bijou of a tenement,
where we found a most dainty little repast set out — cold
game, a huge pate de foie gras from "Fortnum's" (you
may depend, he would say, on getting everything good
there — \^nne particularly, etc.). But we had to make
all speed, for the South-Eastern would not wait even
for him. Still, we were not hurried, and so came up
two more hansoms, and we reached the station in good
time.
It was near midnight when we got to Gravesend,
and found a bright moonlight drive awaiting us on an
Irish jaunting-car, driven in person by Dickens.
And how pleasant that drive was as we bowled along
the whitened high road, which he knew by heart,
reflecting back the moonlight, soon entering through the
Gad's Hill gateway. So this memorable red-letter day
came to an end, the pictures of which, besides their own
interest, supply a valuable picture of this great and
most amiable man.
From the Diary, later : —
Tuesday.
One of the pleasant episodes in life just finished.
Forster come and gone. Don't know when I liked a man
more, so genial and satisfactory to talk with. Never
flagged a moment. Told me a good deal of Dickens.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Pleasant picture of his day. Writes all morning
until 1.0. No one allowed to interrupt him or
see him. Then lunch. Then walking until dinner.
Evening he reads in his owni room, door kept open so
as to hear the girls play.
" Carlyle's proofs," he said, " cost three or four
times amount of original setting up — so many
corrections." Dickens reading out at Christmas his
books to them in advance. Boffin admirable. Shows
it all to Forster beforehand, consults with him. His
calling his little boj's names hereafter to appear in his
novels. A little fellow called Plorn for Plornish —
really Henry.
This notion of scintillating brightness was always to
be associated with him. Whatever he did he did
brightly. I see him now darting here, there and
everywhere with extraordinary elasticity and a
quite juvenile ardour : all with his grand aim of
" keeping everything going." And he did keep all
going. Then you would see hurried consultation
with his two pleasing daughters — his sisters they
looked like. Where was the antique " Fogie "
element ? This was the most astonishing thing of
all — the " springyness," the natural juvenility, ever
ready, ever present.
I have preserved a copy of the numbers of a little
household joui-nal kept by his j'^oungest child, then
about twelve years old, chronicling the names of
guests and visitors. In the copy I can find my own
name, and it brings up the memory of some happy
nights.
It besides "amused the friends very much," just as
Mr. Magnus's proceedings did. The little newspaper,
it will be seen, gives a report of this happy junketing.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
1
THE
OAD'S HHJ. GAZKTVK
August 5th 1865 Price 2d
The management of the railway com-
-panies seems still to be in the same
blundering & negligent state as it has
been for some time, and more especi-
-ally that of the Great Northern. As
an instance of this, we annex the fol-
-lowing. On Saturday evening, Chas
Dickens Esqre, accompanied by the
rest of the residents & visitors at Gad's
Hill (who had been to Knebworth for
the day)* were returning to London,
when their joiu-ney was delayed by
some wandering luggage trains, caus
-ing some danger & much inconvenience.
* For their visit to Knebworth see next page
Arrivals & Departures
P Fitzgerald Esqre left on Tuesday 1st. The
visitors and residents of Gad's Hill, compri-
-sing P Fitzgerald Esqre, ]\Ir & ]\lrs C Col-
-lins, C Dickens Esqre, Miss Dickens, and
IVIiss Hogarth left on Saturday and returned
very early next morning (1 o' clock a.m).
C Dickens junr Esqre arrived on Friday and
left on the next day.
Mscellaneous
The Gad's Hill party went to Kneb-
-worth on Saturday morning to view
the new houses, built by the Society
of the Guild, Literature, & Art.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
A very handsome lunch was given by
Sir E B Lytton Bart, in the course of
Avhich he, and C Dickens Esqre deh-
-vered two brilUant speechs. Dancing
then followed, and the Gad's Hill par-
-ty, who had spent a very pleasant day
returned late at night.
Since we published our list, we are
proud to annex the names of two new
subscribers to it \az Mrs Stunt and A
Halhday Esqre.
We beg to acknowledge the receipt
of letters on business from The Dean of
Bristol, Miss Ely, C Kent Esqre, A HalH-
-day Esqre, IMiss Boyle and W H Humphe-
-ry Esqre M P.
We are glad to inform our readers that Lin
-da is much better.
The school children were to have had their
annual treat on Tuesday last ; but owing to
the inclemency of the weather, it was post-
poned till next week.
LATEST INTELLIGENCE.
Miss Dickens and Mrs Collins went
to London, this morning (Friday) and
are to return this evening, accompa-
-nied by M Stone Esqre. Ch Dickens
Esqre left on Wednesday.
In Page 2, there is a missprint. Instead
of The Guild, Literature & Art, read —
The Guild ' OF ' &c.
H Dickens is the present champion at billiards.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Once sta3ang at Bangor, where was also stay-
ing in great and suitable state the redoubtable John
Forster, the " harbitrary gent " — a nickname which
all the time flattered him a good deal — we passed,
during one of our walks, what seemed a grotesque
spectacle enough. A retired pilot, living by the sea
in a lonely cottage, had conceived the quaint fancy of
collecting together all the varied patterns of vessels'
" figure-heads," and had planted them, as it were, in
his back garden with the quaintest effect. All —
Queens Charlotte and Victoria, admirals and sea
captains — were seen grouped in odd fashion, staring,
with the usual 6en<-back attitude and glaring eyes,
at the visitors.
The drollery of all this struck me, with the oddity
of their seeming to grow out of the ground. Forster was
delighted, and more suo began to point out the special
humour of the collection. How it would affect Dickens.
" The very thing for the Christmas Number " — topics
which I had just been pressing on him.
I lost no time in describing it to Boz as humorously
as I could, putting it all in such a light as would fetch
him. This grotesque ship-breaker's notion quite caught
his fancy, but there were difficulties in the way, and he
had to discard it — a mistake, I think. How amiable and
thoughtful as always his almost apologetic excuses for
not " using " the subject sent to him, and how quaiiit
the illustration of the pat of butter.
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAM BY Rochester, Kent,
Thursday, Thirteenth November, 1865.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I should have answered your last note long ago, but
for having been so perpetually occupied.
29
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
That notion of the ship-breaker's garden takes my
fancy strongly. If I had not been already at work upon
the Xmas No. when you suggested it to me, I think
I must have tried m}^ hand upon it. As it is, I often
revert to it, and go about and about it, and pat it
into new forms, much as the buttermen in the shops
(who have something of a literary air at their wooden
desks) pat the butter. I have been vexed by not being
able to get your story into Dr. IMarigold. I tried it
again and again, but could not adapt its length to the
other requirements of the Xo. Once, I cut it ; but I
was not easy afterwards, and thought it best to restore
the excision, and leave the whole for a regular No.
The difficulty of fitting and adjusting this annual job
is hardly to be imagined without trj'ing it. For the
rest, I hope you will like the Doctor, and know him at
once, as he speaks for himself in the first paper and the
last. Also I commend to your perusal a certain short
story headed, " To be taken with a grain of salt."
In all his letters to myself there is ever a delightful,
intimate, confidential strain ; dealing now with business
topics, thence passing to the most friendly treatment.
I often think of a promenade from the Higham
station at the Christmas season, a couple of miles' walk
I think it was in the gloaming, the snow lying thick on
the ground, which spread away in rolling fields, lights
twinkling in far-off houses. It seemed like the
Pickwickians walking to Dingley Dell. He had come
down to the station to meet us. We were a party of half
a dozen, trudging on ; Dolby, his manager, was in the
group, having come downi to hear the new piece re-
hearsed and judge of the effect. He certainly introduced
a professional tone, for he was not over-refined, but
loud and a little noisy. He had the art, however, of
now and then making his chief laugh.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
As we walked on I could hear him now and again
engaged in this office. It is wonderful how a little
absurd or trivial thing clings to the memory, and I
distinctly recall — though it is nigh fifty years ago —
his saying that someone had completely " bested " him,
or he had " bested " someone, and that Boz asked,
" Where on earth did you get that word ? " and then
Dolby proceeded laboriously to give an explanation.
His talk, however, was generally professional, and
garnished with professional allusions and reminiscences
of oddities he had met at the offices, etc.
31
CHAPTER III
author's novel for " A.Y.R." SIR E. BULWER's
APPRECIATION. DICKENS' RELISH OF GROTESQUE
SITUATIONS AND STORIES. " THE DREADFUL
DOCTOR." " THE MILLER AND HIS MEN." " OLD
ROGERS." LOSS OF WILLS.
As I look back to this engaging and good-natured
editor, I grow perfectly astonished at his kindness,
generosity and encouragement. Anything that would
bring his young men forward he would do. Thus at an
early stage I began pressing to be allowed to venture on
some long tale or novel, say a volume in length. " By all
means, set to work," he would read it, and if found fit,
it should have its place. But mark this, to give it every
chance and advantage, it was sent to the printer, and
at considerable cost some forty or fifty columns were
set up, so that it could be read to the best advantage.*
By and by, however, he was struck by a novel
which I had A\Titten, called Bella Donna, and was then
induced to charge me with the duty of wTiting a regular
three-volume serial for his Journal. This seemed to
me a flattering compliment. The price was £500.
I must have been found satisfactory, for I received
no less than five similar commissions.
* " The checrfullcst man of his ftge," as Johnson said of his friend Oarrick after
his death. And how curious the parallel — as it has always struck me — between
this praise and the exclamation of Carlyle, also after Boz's death : ''The good, the
Doble, the high-souled, the over friendly Dickens ! "
32
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
The following letter is of interest in this connection: — •
No. 26 Wellington Street,
Strand, London, W.C,
Wednesday, Tioenty-seventh July, 1864.
My dear Mr. Fitzgerald,
First let me assure you that it gave us all real
pleasure to see your sister and you at Gad's Hill, and
that we all hope you will both come and stay a day or
two with us when you are next in England.
Next, let me convey to you the intelligence that
I resolve to launch Miss ]\Ianuel : fully confiding in
your conviction of the power of the story. On all
business points Wills will communicate with you.
I purpose beginning its publication in our first September
No., therefore there is no time to be lost.
The only suggestion I have to make as to the MS.
in hand and type is, that Captain Fermor wants relief.
It is a disagreeable character — as you mean it to be—
and I should be afraid to do so much with him, if the case
were mine, without taking the taste of him, here and
there, out of the reader's mouth. It is remarkable that if
you do not administer a disagreeable character carefully,
the public have a decided tendency to think that the story
is disagreeable, and not merely the fictitious person.
What do you think of the title, Never Forgotten.
It is a good one in itself — would express the eldest
sister's pursuit, would have a delicate reference to
Hanbm-y— and glanced at now and then in the text,
would hold the reader in suspense. I would propose to
add the line, By the Author of Bella Donna.
Let me know your opinion as to the title. I need
not assure you that the greatest care will be taken of
you here, and that we shall make you as thoroughly
and widely known as we possibly can.
Very faithfully vours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Wills once, on paying me the sum of £500 for a
serial novel, took occasion to tell me that there had
33
4
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
been a loss of £100 on the transaction. The worthy,
excellent Wills, a shrewd man of business trained in
Edinburgh, gently rubbed this in as he handed me the
cheque, and said it was rather unfortunate that the office
should lose seriously, etc. Knowing that my friend
was all important in the office, I without hesitation said
that there should be no loss, and at once reduced the
above by £100. This was thought uncommonly
handsome, and I received many compliments. The
liberal Dickens, however, was much displeased, as he
told Forster, who told me on the same day. As it was
a transaction with the sub-editor, it became awkward
for him to interfere. Wills was a partner in the firm
besides being sub-editor. The transaction had been
completed without his (Boz) knowing anything of the
matter. My friend Forster took the same view, and
I am afraid thought that I had been a little " soft "
in the matter.* But as it proved, I did not lose, for
the generous Dickens, who never rested under a
compliment or obligation, made it up to me by speedily
commissioning a new story on a large scale. Young
writers should take this lesson to heart, and never
show greediness about money or dispute as to contracts.
The proprietors may yield, but they will not forget,
and the real loss and more will come by and by.
It is astonishing how these httle personal traits of
amiability in Boz have not been more put forward.
But by and by they will be gathered together from all
quarters and read with delight. This will happen as
surely as that in due course there will be a clamour for
a great and sufficient Memorial to be erected by the aid
of the whole kingdom — a homage now intercepted by far-
fetched scruples as to his private wishes and aspirations.
• There had been no actual loss. The " oflice " dispcsed of the serials to the
publishers, and so recouped thoraaelves. On this occasion they did not receive so
much.
34
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Sir E. Bulwer Lytton was a strangely interesting
person, with dreamy manner, as I have said, low voice
and curious eyes, and the tranquil yet effective way
in which he acquitted himself on the Guild Day showed
what quiet force there was in him. I always admired the
genuine interest he took in the craft of letters, having
always that delight in the old profession which rarely
leaves a man. He read everything that came out,
and with enjoj'ment.
The following letter from Boz seems to reflect both
pride and pleasure — a pride that one of his followers,
trained by himself, should have obtained such praise
from his old and gifted friend. It seemed to endorse
his own judgment, and gave him pleasure on account
of the anticipated satisfaction it would bring to his
faitliful friend and admirer : —
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Monday, Sixteenth J%dy, 1866.
My dear Fitzgerald,
T send you the enclosed note, received yesterday
from Bulwer, because I think it may interest and please
you. His praise is well worth having, inasmuch as he
is a very careful student and an admirable artist.
Faithfully yours always,
CHARLES DICKENS.
" I want to tell you," he wrote to his friend, " that
I greatly admire the novel now running. It strikes me
to be a really gi'eat novel, which is a very rare thing.
There are bits about the heroine which show wholesale
knowledge of the human heart, and the plot seems
hitherto deeply planned and well carried out. It is
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
impossible for any wTiter who comes after you to escape
some obligations to you, and this is sho^\"n in one of the
characters. But I like the work altogether, and it is
original. I am the more surprised at its merit, because
I had read some other work by the same reputed -i^Titer
and had not been much struck by it. It is a better
work than Felix Holt / " I know what risk there is in
printing these lines. What an opening for ridicule and
worse ! But it served as a flattering encouragement ;
and it is really a proof of the hearty eagerness with
which this interesting man followed the common course
of the publications of the day ; not accepting merely
the official recognised productions, but examining for
himself, on the chance of finding what would be
entertaining and have merit. In a letter to myself, he
explained that he had been " exceedingly struck by
the depth of power in all the earlier portions ; but with
the later numbers I am not quite so well pleased or
satisfied ; and I believe the reason to be, not in any
fault of mere construction, but because towards the
close the antagonistic or disagreeable element over-
powers the sympathetic or agreeable. I do not know
whether you quite understand what I mean." I shall
only add that the story was called The Second Mrs.
Tillotson. Why should I suppress these grateful
words ?
Office of " All The Year Round,"
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Thursday, Eighth Februari/, 1866.
My deab Fitzgerald,
I send you the enclosed from Procter, just as
I received it here last night.
Faithfully yours always,
CHARLES DICKENS.
36
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
The little scrap related to a matter that intimately
concerned the venerable poet and critic Procter, better
known as Barry Cornwall. I was acquainted with him,
but much more intimately with his rather tumultuous
wife {nee Skepper), a strange, always outspoken lady.
Once when I was praising Forster to her, she broke in
with, " I '11 tell you what Forster is— he's nothing more
or less than a bully ! " The poet, on the contrary, was
gentle to all men. He had just completed a volume
of his Memoirs of Charles Lamb, and here was now
announced by Sir. Bentley another work by myself on
the same subject, to the affectionate consternation of
his friends. Forster pressed me in a very feeling way
" to hold over " the book ; so I think did Boz, or it
may have been his delicate mode of appealing to me,
to forward the poet's appeal to him. I would have
cheerfully 3ielded to such pressure, but the publisher
refused. It was too late. However, no harm was
done, nor was harm at all likely.
Many have admired the unfailing geniality and
good nature of Dickens, the most striking and unusual
instance of Avhich is siurely his unbounded generosity
in the matter of letters. It was perfectly astonishing
to find this gifted man expending his precious and
valuable talent, wasting it as it were, in his replies
to idle friends, displaying his wit, humour, fun and
all manner of comic ideas that would have served
for '"copy," on even young admirers and old friends.
He seemed to put his very best into his letters. They
are marvellous performances indeed, and so artistically
WTOUght that they are not to be distinguished from
the vivacious Uncommercial Papers. But the really
amazing thing is their being rare evidence of his
indomitable spirit and energies — who, oppressed with
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
business, serial stories and above all the grinding
duties of his weekly editing, could sit down to answer
seven or eight letters with some of great length, and
all overflowing with fun and frolic and vivacity.
Boz was fond in his letters of renewed and yet
again renewed allusions to some humorous scene, jest
or personage. There are several instances in this
series of letters. It was a sort of note of intimacy ; for
though the allusion might seem barren and cr3q3tic,
it really stood for a world of comic associations that had
been again and again laughed over and enriched with
fresh ideas and allusions. He thus at every fresh
meeting or festival made it more and more entertaining.
But in truth " a merrier man, etc." Indeed, those
who did not know this agreeable system of his had
little idea of their Dickens.
At one time I was acquainted with a troublesome,
pushful Divine who " recited," and forced his recitations
on such as were too weak to resist. He was chancellor
of some small cathedral. He seemed filled with
vanity, and was eager to bring himself forward. In
the cause of pseudo charity he would furnish personal
contributions of this kind to any extent. One day
the ever genial Charles had agreed to come and
dine with me and " meet a few friends." The Divine
got wind of this, and a little before the hour burst in all
excitement. " The most fortunate thing in the world ! "
he said. " The great man 7nust hear me recite, ' The
Veneerings ' — and my amendments thereto. They are
new and all important." " Impossible," I said firmly,
" the table 's full." " Then I '11 come in the evening."
I positively declined, as Boz, I knew well, detested
such exhibitions. The Doctor bowed his head resignedly
and went his way. During the dinner I made Boz
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
laiigli heartily, telling him of the importuning cleric.
" Lord bless you ! " he cried in characteristic fashion,
" why I should have run out of the room." But when
we came upstairs there the Doctor was installed ! He
must be introduced to Dickens at once, but next
moment had introduced himself. " IVIr. Dickens, I have
made a wonderful improvement in ' The Veneerings,'
only a few lines, and I am going to recite them for you
now." He went to the other room as if to prepare his
stage. But in a flash Boz was gone. I know not how
he managed it, but gone he was. I am afraid it is the
fact the worthy Doctor always gave out hereafter that he
had recited this particular " Veneering " passage before
the great Charles Dickens. He had dreamed himself
into the belief.
Boz, however, did not escape him. From that
moment the Doctor began to plague him with letters,
with " little things of his own," and perpetual calls at
his door. Boz was dreadfully worried by these things,
but he soon found compensation in his favourite
entertainment, that is by diverting his friends with this
new eccentric figure. To me he scarcely ever wTote a
letter without a comic allusion to his persecutor. He
called him "the D.D.," or "the Dreadful Doctor."
Thus, " The Dreadful Doctor has just left his card."
"The Dreadful Doctor is coming to town and will call."
" The Dreadful Doctor has left a stout bundle of MS. at
the office — a first-rate thing, he says." And so it
went on. "The Dreadful Doctor" became known to
all his friends. Here was shown in a small way his
wonderful power of visualising things; for he really
seemed to create quite a new character. Even those
who had not seen "the Dreadful Doctor" were quite
able to enjoy the jests at his expense.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
There are a vast number of passages in the printed
letters which might be detached as perfect cameos
of wit and graphic humour. Thougli filUng three
octavos, these letters represent but a minute portion of
the vast number that are at large floating about over
the world. ]\Iany of these came under the eyes of the
editors of his works, but could not be used owing to the
limited accommodation and other reasons. But the
time is approaching when there will be a sure and
certain call for these rarities.
I think with pleasure alwa3^s of his lively and
waggish fashion of throwing incidents into grotesque
shape, and bringing it before one in dramatic form.
Thus speaking of a certain hostility that always raged
between Wills and Forster, he would draw a sketcli of
the pair accidentally meeting in his office and " growling
at each other like angry dogs," so that " I had at last
to say to Wills, ' Please to withdraw,' " which Wills did.
Glaring hostility at the other as he retreated to the
door. Wills was heard to mutter, " Never mind, a time
will come — all right." I used to hear from each of the
two enemies his -private opinion of the other. " That
Wills is neither more nor less than a stock-jobber, and he
has made money on the Exchange." Wills had an
equally disparaging opinion of the other. These things,
though the}'^ amused, must have been worries.
Forster's foibles were more than compensation, for
he literally revelled in them — they were so exquisitely
original and grotesque, mainly, I believe, owing to the
fact that the sage was so impregnably mailed in his o\va.
self-complacency as to be giving himself away every
hour. A Forster story was a joy for ever, and there was
a fresh one constantly croi">ping up. I have seen Boz
rolling on a sofa in agonies of enjoyment at some of
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
these tales. Yet wlio so enjoj'ed a story as Forster
did, or was so grateful for a good one. He had the
sense of luimoiir, and could tell one admirabh\
A really good story is a handsome, valuable present,
for it contributes for a long time at least to your daily
enjoyment. But they are rare. Two that I told to
Boz he enjoyed with acute pleasure. One was that of
the dentist who set up a yacht, which the wags of his
acquaintance named the Tuscarora ; the other that of
a suggested inscription for the monument of an eminent
physican in a Dublin cemetery, " Why not put the
famous one of Wren's at St. Paul's, ' Si monumentum
qu3eris, circumspice.' "
Again, need I make any excuse for thus exhibiting
him in his most engaging moments, enjojang himself
in the simplest fashion of " the Simple Life," giving
way to his most buoyant feelings, and never on any
occasion changing to another mood or humour less
accommodating ?
He always took an intense delight in the humours
of the stage and in the absurdities, exaggerations and
grotesqueness that reigned in his own childish daj'S ;
yet, though he laughed at them, he loved them all the
time. And who knew them so well ? Everyone " who
knows " has revelled in the Crummies scenes at
Portsmouth — the most perfect presentment of the
country stage life ever given, also the most amusing ;
we are lost in admiration at the roundness, the life, the
perfect finish and truth of such beings as Folair and
Lenville.
There ^^as an old melodrama which he was fond
of recalling — The Miller and His Men. He dwelt on it
with an affectionate interest. I also knew it by heart,
every word of it ; he had got it up at school, so had I.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
To me it seemed romantic, a drama of absorbing interest.
The notion of the robbers posing as harmless, well-
floured millers, so as to carry on their dishonest pursuits,
was fascinating. Fondly one used to look back to the
innocent mill (music by Bishop), the combats, the
love business, the comic countryman, the desperate
encounters when the bandits were driven to bay and
had to throw off the mask. And at the close, when the
mill was blown up ! I dare affirm that all this and
infinitely more was passing through Boz's mind and
cherished by him. For he delighted in calling back all his
youthful pictures, which seemed to him more dramatic
and suggestive than the more brilliant ■? business
of actual life. This always seemed to me to furnish a
key to his infinitely interesting character. Simple
and genuine things — old images, old dreams — were
what pleased him. And as in this Miller and His Men
memory I seemed to have followed his ovn\ actual train
of thought, he was pleased at this bit of sympathy, and
so the subject again and again recurred. In Household
Words there are numerous allusions to this old play.
Papers headed, "The Miller and His Men," "When
the wind blows," " Grindoff," " The mill goes," but
referring only to those marauders by way of metaphor ;
just as with those allusions to blacking alwaj'-s recurring
in his stories, made because it pleased him to keep
before his thoughts that strange and curious secret.
This good old crusted piece was produced as far back
as 1811, A\Titten by a certain Isaac Pocock, but it was
revived in 1835, just as Boz was devoting himself to the
stage. It was thus that he ever thought fondly of it
and cherished all the varied images, quoting with gusto,
" More sacks to the mill ! " But, indeed, he knew it all
by heart, and never failed. The music, how quaint and
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
pleasant it was ! " When the wind blows, then the mill
goes," by the excellent Bishop.
How ready, too, he was, when some antique, absurd
song in which our fathers delighted was quoted, to take
up the strain, to answer the cue with corresponding
solemnity. As with the " All 's well " chant. The
words " All — all 's well ! " in slow and sad thirds, the
two joining in " all 's well ! "
It came to pass that one of his own most capable
henchmen, " Jack " Hollingshead, had taken Drury
Lane Theatre, and conceived a very fantastical scheme
for refuting the notion that the old plays were good.
This he did by reproducing them under absurd condi-
tions. These foolish exhibitions " Jack " advertised
regularly as Palmy-day Revivals, an allusion to the
constantly quoted " palmy days of the British drama,"
supposed to be gone for ever, and to which we were
supposed to be longing to return. He wished to convince
his playgoers that these were but poor ridiculous things.
He forgot, however, the indifferent acting, the complete
ignorance of the traditions, the total want of sympathy
both in actors and audiences. With this view he dug
up and degraded all kinds of venerable dramas —
George Barnwell, Venice Preserved, The Gamester and
the like.
One day while the facetious " Jack " was indulging
in these freaks, which proved costly enough for him,
I received a joyous letter from Boz, something to this
effect : " What do you think ? Hollingshead is
putting up our good old friend. The Miller and His
Men ! We positively must see it. Fix your own night.
Do come ! " Need I say that I was as pleased as he
was and did come ?
]n his enthusiastic fashion he looked on the
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
resurrection as something quite providential. It was to
be a regular " night out." But first — for he was ever
hospitable, and thought everything incomplete without
his hospitality — there must be the prefatory diimer.
The old " Albion," then facing Drury Lane Theatre,
gone now, was to be the place. How appropriate he
thought this tavern for the primitive play ! And so we
repaired to the " Albion " in the greatest spirits.
I see ourselves that night seated in one of the " boxes,"
or eating peAvs. Some familiar, semi-Bohemian followers
of the old times came up shyly and yet familiarly, to
be received by him in his own genial, cordial way. For
he never changed to anyone, and he was ever cordial to
the humbler fry of his profession, and not onlj' cordial,
but hearty and jovial. We then crossed to Drury Lane
Theatre, and were duly installed in a good box. The
heavy folds of the old green curtain rolled up slowly,
and there were seen the millers bending under their
burdens, toiling up the steep towards their mill.
How merril}^ his eye twinkled as he murmured with
Grindoff, " More sacks to the mill ! " Then came the
glee, " When the wind blows, then the mill goes," to
Bishop's old-fashioned strains, execrably performed, as,
indeed, was the whole. The players and their diction
were exaggerated, the old-fashioned spectacles became
a burlesque. Alas ! the disillusion worked slowl}' and
surely. The whole was stupid, dull, and heavy to a
degree, so at last, about the second Act, Boz arose
slowly and sadly, and said " he could stand it no longer."
I really think he was grieved at having his old idol
shattered, and perhaps was mortified.
But presently he rallied. There was the little
bachelor haunt, 26 Wellington Street, the office, where
there was to be more eating and drinking to wind up the
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
night. We must " drown it in the bowl." This was
an extract from a romantic melodrama. The Castle of
Andalusia, also full of bandits and caves, and which he
introduced into the Muggleton dinner, though no one
recognised it —
" The glasses sparkle on the board,
The wine is ruby bright."
The Miller ayid his Men was a portion of Dickens's
precious childish memories which he cherished all
through his life. When he was at the Welhngton
House Academy I find he got up this very Miller and
His Men in a sort of toy theatre. His fellow-pupil,
Dr. Danson, tells us how it was given in a very gorgeous
form. " blaster Beverley constructed the mill for us in
such a way that it could tumble to pieces with the
assistance of crackers. At one performance the ex-
plosion connected with the blowing up of the mill was so
loud that the police came knocking at the door." So,
forty years later, when the magic name was mentioned
these little scenes came back to him — his old school, the
mill, his fellow-actors, his management, the explosion —
and now here I am, after fifty years more, recalling the
talk with him.
On such festive occasions he would abound in
delightful stage stories, acted inimitably. Thus he
would call up one of those old pantomime scenes
where cIowti and the old pantomime are carrjang
on their robberies of shops, and clown had secured a
leg of mutton which he had put away in his roomy
pocket, whence the serious policeman as usual ex-
tracted it.
Clown, of course, swears that he never took it, and
knew nothing about it. " Nay, nay, Joey," says his
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
friend mildly, " you know you did ; I saw you do it."
" I tell you I didn't." " Oh, Joey, Joey ! you put it
in your pocket." " Very well then," says the clown,
" then I'm a liar ! " " No, no, Joey, I don't say that."
" Yes, yes, it comes to that, I'm a liar ! "
Boz said that his argument or dilem,ma ahvays
struck him as the most comical alternative — the clown,
with his known morals, insisting that it was a reflection
upon his character. But it is impossible to give an
idea of his humorous play of features as he acted the
two fellows.
I ought to be proud of the testimonial in the
opening lines of the following letter. During a long
life I have never received such a tribute from a relation,
friend or acquaintance. It will be noted how he takes
the trouble to lay emphasis on what might be taken for
a banal compliment.
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAJM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Tuesday, Sixth November, 1866.
My dear Fitzgerald,
It is always pleasant to me to hear from you, and
I hope you will believe that this is not a mere fashion
of speech.
Concerning the Green Covers, I find these leaves
to be budding — on unquestionable newspaper authority
— but upon my soul I have no other knowledge of their
being in embryo ! Really, I do not see a chance of
my setting myself to such work, until after I shall have
accomplished 42 Readings to which I stand pledged.
I hope to begin this series, somewhere about the
middle of January, in Dublin. Touching the details
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
of the realization of this hope, will you tell me — in a
line as soon as j^ou can — Is the Exhibition Room a good
room for speaking in ?
P.S. — The Dreadful Doctor has appeared ! ! !
Latest Intelligence —
And has sent in his pamphlet on " Puffing."
It will be seen from what follows how confidential
he is, and how interesting for the recipient to be told
beforehand of the various plans he had in view, and
whether public speculation was right or wrong. It is
to be suspected few editors thus unfold themselves to
their contributors.
It was a delightful and welcome thing for me to be
thus allowed to know of his plans, and even of the
reasons he had for adopting them. What a privilege
too, shared, however, with other friends, that of seeing
his writings before publication. Such was the case with
some American sketches, not exactly in his best vein.
They were " George Silverman," " Holiday Romance "
and others. What " the dreadful epithet and descrip-
tion " were 1 cannot recall now.
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Tiventy- first July, 1867.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I am heartily glad to get your letter, and shall be
thoroughly well pleased to study you again in the pages
of A.Y.R. Meantime — and until you come here for a
few days — please consider that the dreadful epithet
and description are not withdrawn, but cleave to you.
I have settled nothing yet about America, but am
47
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
going to send Dolby out on the 3rd of next month, to
survey the land and come back with a report on some
heads whereon I require accurate information.
Proposals (both from American and English speculators)
of a very tempting nature have been repeatedly made
to me ; but I cannot endure the thought of binding
myself to give so many Readings there, whether I like
it or no ; and, if I go at all, am bent on going with Dolby
single-handed.
I have been doing two things for America ; one,
the little story to which you refer ; the other, from
little papers for a child's magazine. I like them both,
and think the latter rather a queer combination of a
child's mind with a grown-up joke. I have had them
printed, and to ensure con-ect printing in the United
States. You shall have the proof to read, with the
greatest pleasure. On second thoughts, why shouldn't
I send j^ou the children's proof ? this same post ?
I will, as I have it here, send it under another cover.
When you return it you shall have the short story.
Believe me always,
Heartily yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzgerald, Esquire.
I hope you haven't forgotten that the Honourable
Charles Townsend vowed that he would have her.
She was beautiful.
The allusion to " the Honourable Charles Townshend "
referred to a racy story of his own, one of a score almost,
with which he regaled me on a long day during a railway
journey. It was a story concerning Rogers, the old
poet, whom he " took off " with infinite vivacity and
dramatic humour, giving the voice, manner and general
48
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
eccentricities. The voice, he said, he used for Mr.
Justice Stareleigh at the Readings. He and a friend
went to see the poet, and were received by his faithful
valet and exhibitor — who knew all liis yarns by heart.
These Rogers used to repeat almost invariably in the
same words. The man presently touched, as it were,
one of the stops. " Come, sir, tell Mr. Dickens and his
friend the story of the Honourable Miss Townshend
and Captain Monckton." Instantly the old man set
off in a sort of slow chant, and as if reading from a book,
" Colonel Monckton was a dissolute man about town.
He had seen the Hon — o — ra — bel Charlotte and
desired to win her. She was beautiful. He bri-bed her
maid to secrete him in her boudoir, and when she
entered to dress, he emerged from his hi-ding place and
stood before her. She looked at him fixedly and said,
' Why don't you begin ? ' She took him for the 'air
dresser." It would be difficult to describe the humour
and vivaciousness with which the little scene was
brought before us.
There is a little passage in one of his letters which
seems to me significant as illustrating the view that his
kindly sympathies for me were somewhat founded on
the consciousness that I seemed to understand the
feelings of his early childhood and youth. I had written
a little book on Charles Lamb and Charles Dickens,
coupling them by a sort of affinity, not of proper name
merely, but by their common fancy of recalling their
childish thoughts, to be carefully cherished and
nurtured and blended with their full-grown feelings.
I had shown there was a curious parallel in this respect
between the two WTiters. On this he WTote to me with
an extraordinary gratitude and enthusiasm, showing
that I had touched the chord.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Friday, Second February, 1866.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I ought to have written to you days and days ago,
to thank you for your charming book on Charles Lamb
— to tell you with what interest and pleasure I read it
as soon as it came here — and to add that I was honestly
affected (far more so than your modesty will readily
believe) by your intimate knowledge of those touches
of mine concerning childhood.
Let me tell you now that I have not in the least
cooled, after all, either as to the graceful sympathetic
book, or as to the part in it with which I am honoured.
It has become a matter of real feeling with me, and
I postponed its expression because I couldn't satis-
factorily get it out of myself, and at last I came to the
conclusion that it must be left in.
I am, dear Fitzgerald,
Faithfully,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzgerald, Esquire.
The " eminent literary personage," as he used to call
me, had now other ambitions — trying his hand at a
short dramatic piece. Boz took charge of it, and sent
it to his friend Webster.
Thursday, Twelfth September, 1867.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Many thanks for the play enclosed. It goes very
glibly and merrily and smoothly, but I make so bold as
to say that you can wT^'ite a much better one. The most
characteristic part in it is much too like Compton in the
Unequal Match. And the best scene in it (where the
husband urges his wife to go away), is so excessively
dangerous, and is so very near passing a delicate line,
60
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
that I think the chances would be very many to one
against an audience's acceptance of it. Because,
however drolly the situation is presented, the fact is
not to be got over that that lady seriously supposes
lier husband to be in league with another man, to hand
her over to that other man : both those men being
present with her.
Put 3^our sister, mentally, in the situation.
Our friend of The Mimmery,* South Minims, is
married.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Faithfully yours always,
CHARLES DICKENS.
I feel a sore twinge of conscience as I think of this
unconscionable tax upon his good nature so cheerfully
accepted. He took the play to Mr. Webster, with no
result of course, and reported to me the manager's
opinion with other details.
The following scraps refer to a story of mine called
Tom Butler which he rather fancied. " Where, 0 where,
is the rest of Tom Butler ? " he used to Avrite.
Office of " All The Year Round."
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Thursday, Fotirth June, 1868.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I had done thus much to Bird's Eye Paris this
morning when I heard from Birtles that you have a
Proof of it by you. Will you make your corrections on
my enclosed proof, and send it back to Birtles by return
of post ?
• The Miraniery was a je^t that tickled him, referring to the late Poet Laureate.
Alfred Austin, who lived at that denomination and at the time struck one as
r-.ther an eccentric being ; but he soon became rawie and imporfant. Such quaint
titles Boz enjoyed and played with. I often heard of " The Mimmeries. '
51
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Please keep, on abrupt transitions into the present
tense, your critical eye.
Tom Btttler, in type, is just now brought in. I will
write to you of him to-morrow or Saturday.
Ever faithfully,
CD.
Wills going on well.
And again : —
" Tom Butler is in print, and I like him very much.
But I do not understand how long you propose to
make him. How tall is he to grow, with how many
parts is he to expand ? Enlighten me, there's a dear
fellow, and I will presently respond. I am glad that a^ou
like the children, and am particularh'^ glad that you like
the Pirate. I remember very well when I had a general
idea of occupjdng that place in history at the same age.
But I loved more desperately than Bold Heart.
Enclosed is the American story."
The pleasant ardour with which he followed the
course of a story, anticipated its coming, debated its
name, and helped its wTiter over various stiles, and
even extricated him from bogs, was all in the same
spirit. His aid as to the name and conduct of the story
was, it may be conceived, invaluable. Many and earnest
were the consultations upon this matter of naming. No
one had a nicer ear as to what would " hit " or suit the
taste of the town.
" I am glad to hear that the story is so far advanced
now that you think well of it, for I have no doubt that
you are right. I don't like either of j'our names, for the
reason that they don't seem to me solidly earnest
enough for such a story. But give me a little time to
think of another, and I flatter myself that I may suggest
a good one."
(&Kt'B'^m^imt.
|6igf)am 65 ^0ihster,|l£nt.
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FACSIMILE OF LP:TTP:R from CHARLES DICKENS
TO PERCY FITZGERALD.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
And again of a later story: —
" I think the plan of the story very promising, and
suggestive of a remarkably good, new, and strong
interest. What do you think of the pursuing relative
dying at last o/ the same disorder as the haroneVs daughter,
and under such circumstances as to make out the case
of the clergyman's daughter and clear up the story ?
As, for example, suppose her husband himself does alm-ost
the same thing in going for help ivhen the man is dying.
I think I see a fine story here. As to the name. No,
certainly not. ' What could She do ? ' No again.
' What will He do with It ? ' ' Can He forgive Her ? '
' Put yourself in His Place.' Remember these titles."
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGiLiM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Thursday, Fifth November, 1868.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Pray don't suppose that Tom Butler is in disgrace,
because that is not the fact. I think I must reserve him
for the New Series in consequence of the immense
difficulty I find in clearing off articles in type. It is
immensely greater than I had supposed or allowed
for.
Ever faithfully,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Who could conceive of a modern editor troubling
himself about a Tom Butler in any conceivable shape or
form — caring whether he was " in disgrace," or over-
looked, or held over, or seeming as if to apologise for
non-appearance ?
Nothing was more delightful than his little theories
of daily life and talk, always cropping up, which were
most quaint and amusing. None were so often
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
illustrated and emphasised as that two perfect strangers
were certain to find some common link. It was
delightful to see his enjoyment when he would cry out,
" There, again ! You both luiow something about a
third person, you see." Once at Gad's Hill there was
George Moore, the philanthropist, dining, and I had
just arrived and reported that the only election news
about town was that a quasi-merchant, a certain Pirn,
a Quaker, had got in for Dublin. Moore was enchanted.
" The best customer I have, and an admirable fellow.
I 'm really delighted." So was Boz. " There, d 'ye
hear ? " he cried, " another instance, you see ! You
two have never met before, and meet here by mere
accident, and, lo ! there you are both connected at
once by a common link— what I am alwaj'^s saying, the
world is so small."
Another of these little hobbies was this, of a rather
tragic cast. " So many hundreds are killed in the London
streets every year. Now here is November, and yet the
number is not completed, nor near it, and the statistical
folk say a hundred or so will have to be killed by the last
day of December ! " A quaintly original but tragical
notion.
It would be difficult to find a more attractive girl
than " Mamie " Dickens, so she was called — INIary was
her formal name. Decidedly pretty she was, but her
power lay in her interesting character — its curious
spirit of independence and haughty refusal of sub-
mission, which made one thinlc that some Petruchio
might arrive and confront this imperious being. From
this spirit of hers I confess I suffered a good deal, as
she never spared me. Many a hard knock 1 received.
At one moment I was in favoui', presently quite out of
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
it. Still, there was something rather piquant in carrying
on this mimic struggle, and I was always thinking of her
as the poet's heroine :
" Thou hast so many pleasing, teasing ways about thee,
There is no living with thee or without thee."
She was of petite figure, small, well-shaped features,
and, as I have said, had a ready wit. There was a
family she often visited, whom I affected to depreciate,
without knowing anything about them, a matter which
she resented seriously. And we had many a quarrel
on these matters. Later on we became friends, and
I won back her favour by writing and printing an ode
to her little dog Bouncer.
CHAPTER IV
THE BEADING TOURS. A PLEASANT COMEDY SCENE.
HIS INDULGENT TOLERATION OF THE AUTHOR AND
HIS GENTLE REBUKES. " THE DOCTOR'S MIXTURE."
Once he had set forth on his very trying pilgrimage
of reading tours, Dickens jealously guarded himself
from all intrusion of hospitalities and such compli-
mentary tributes, carefully " fending off," as it were,
all considerate attentions hoAvever well meant. From
this system, absolutely necessary for his repose, he
scarcely ever departed, except perhaps in a single
instance, that of myself. I believe I was the only one
from whom he accepted a formal dinner to meet other
guests. I also was the only one whom he took round
with him on his tours from town to town, and I well
recall the kindly enjoj^ment with which he planned out
a more extended tour all through the Scottish cities.
A special saloon carriage for his exclusive use was
allotted to him by the companies. Anything like a
'planned expedition pleased, and he hked working out
the details. The pleasant prospect, however, faded
out owing to difficulties on my side — family and other
matters. Nor was I altogether sorry to escape the risk
of failure in keeping up to the standard he had formed
of my companionship. It would have been mortifying
to discover that he had, as it were, made a mistake
56
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
and cumbered himself with one who was not exactly
up to his estimate. Here Avere rare privileges and
happy opportunities.
The disastrous course of the " Readings " — his
heroic devotion which really cost him his life— was at
last di-awing to a close, and it was now my happy
privilege to be his fellow traveller and companion on
the Irish expedition. The following letter has a bearing
on the matter : —
Office of " All The Year Round."
No. 26 Wellington Street,
Strand,
London, W.C,
Monday, Eighteenth Mmj, 1868,
My dear Fitzgerald,
Wills is ordered away for positive rest and change,
and is forbidden even to Avrite a letter. The Paris
paper is welcome, and Theodore of Corsica shall receive
unbounded hospitalit}^ in these Halls. I am ready for
him as soon as he likes.
Regarding the Readings, thus the case stands :
I mean to take my farewell of that occupation in the
ensuing winter and spring. Dublin and Belfast will
assuredly be in the programme, and I shall not fail
to claim your promise to join the pilgrimage. Dolb}^
begs me to tell you that he is full of joyful anticipation.
He has been utterly hardened by his American bullying,
and has none but private feelings left.
Many thanks for your kind welcome home.
Always cordially yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Percy Fitzgerald, Esquire.
57
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It is pleasant to tell this. All the time he was in
the most buoyant spirits, and one morning we sat
from breakfast time to two o'clock Avhilst he, in his
most humorous mood, was pouring out a stream of
diverting stories with the richest effect.
It was at Dublin that I first met Dolby, and then I
began to see what a useful agent he was in dealing \\ith
crowds and working up a sensation ; for he was — as
he ought to have been — wonderfully thick-skinned,
lie minded nothing, felt nothing, he would see anyone,
say anything, or do anything. He tells in his amusing
book of a gentleman who came into the pretty " Round
Room " of the Rotunda, where the readings were given,
and who had some difficulty in finding his seat ; when
someone in the gallery shouted, "Ah, Misther Fitzjare,
can't ye seat yerself down quietly ? " This gentleman
was myself. Boz had not " come on," otherwise
I should never have ceased hearing of this jest. He
would have revelled in it. When we started for
Belfast I found Boz alread}' seated in his carriage,
though it was a full quarter before the time of
departure. He never could understand or tolerate
leaving a small margin, or " running it close." Dolby,
meanwhile, was in a state of excitement about the
violet screen and other properties, which the station-
master refused to admit into the van without payment.
Dolby explained to him that they had never been
charged at any station m the kingdom. Did he know
that this was Mr. Dickens ? The fellow answered
that he did not care a d whether it was
Mr. Dickens or any])ody else ; the things should not
go unless paid for. Dickens laughed heartily at this
rebuff, but Dolby fumed and raged all the way
down.
58
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
At Belfast we put up at the old-fashioned Royal
Hotel in Donegal Street, where the ladies used to
contrive to be always passing before the door of the
illustrious guest. It was a most pleasant time, for
Boz, under all this weight of business, was ever cheery
and like a schoolboy. We went to the Ulster Hall, a
vast place, to look at it and try it, and I remember
climbing to the far-off gallery to report how his voice
" carried." Then we walked about and saw the town.
It was rather a trying business to " walk about " with
Boz, for everybody stared hard at the remarkable
face and figure.
After dimier that night, which was as gay as
possible, we sallied forth to the local theatre.
Dickens was a little apprehensive lest the manager
or his people would insist on honouring him as a
brother of the profession, but he escaped their notice.
After the reading we had a supper, and then Dolby
"came out." I could see that he amused Boz by his
rough manner of speech. He was assiduous in
gathering up local stories, incidents, etc., to amuse
" the Chief," as he invariably called him, and these the
Chief seriously inclined to hear. Nay, after supper,
as Boz reclined on the sofa, Dolby went through
various gymnastics, notably the feat of standing on
his head on a chair, in which he was not very successful ;
but the eager Boz was piqued into competing, all
wearied as he was, and thought he would show him
how to do it — and he actually did !
When we were leaving Belfast there was a grotesque
scene, which amused Dickens mightily. A portly,
smug-faced man was seen smiUng rather complacently
on Boz, as who should say, " I approve of you. I am
sure we shall like each other." He then spoke to the
59
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
stationmaster, who came up, and said that was
Mr. , the eminent flax-spinner, who would be
gratified to have the pleasure of traveUing to to\\Ti
with jMt. Dickens. I could see that the impressed
bystanders thought that the consent was a matter of
course, and that it was rather a fitting attention on the
part of the flax-spinner, who stood still smiling. But
I did not like to look at his face when the station-
master told him that Mr. Dickens was very sorry, but
preferred to travel with his own party. Boz was,
however, much amused.
But there was no laughing in what followed. The
company had, by way of compliment, given our author
a coupe carriage (next to the engine), which gave a
vicAv of the whole country — an antiquated style of
vehicle rarely seen now. After an hour's travel there
came a violent grinding, and the air was filled with dust
and steam, and the train was sharply brought to a
stop. Dickens was greatly alarmed, for his nerves had
been sadly shaken by the recent Staplehurst accident.
I recollect noticing the same nervous trouble on our
return from the great day at Knebworth, which I have
already described, when there was a shock and stoppage
of the train. On this journey from Belfast we were
all in real peril, and escaped as by a miracle. Getting
down, as all the passengers did, Boz was present!)^ in
talk with the engine driver, who explained that " her
great drivin' wheel " had burst into fragments ; one
block struck the coupe just above our heads — a little
lower, and it would have taken us all, in aroAV, himself,
myself, his amiable sister-in-law, and Dolby. ,y> That
night we spent at the pleasant Shelburne| hotel that
looks out on St. Stephen's Green, where I believe they
still point out his rooms. Boz good-naturedly insisted
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
that, as we had been travellers, we must not part before
winding up in true jolly fashion. Abundant in stories
and jests I was taking my way home to my own house
hoping to see him again in a day or two, and feeling, in
the Bard's phrase, that " I had bestowed sufficient of
my tediousness on him." " Come," he said, " we
must have one last dinner at the Shelburne Hotel."
I protested. He was tired after his journey. I would
tire him more, and so on. " Not a bit — not — one —
bit. Come now, you will ? " And I did come, adding
another happy evening to the rest. I fancy to be
" talking shop," as it is called, with the rather prosaic
Dolby would have tired him.
After the death of Dickens I used occasionally to
encounter Dolby, who began to fall on evil days. He
had made a good connection, and was brother of the
cantatrice, but somehow he did not get forward.
I noticed the growing shabbiness. He came to me when
he had written his book, and asked me to try and get
him a publisher. I gave him a letter or two. Poor
Dolby ! Had I known of his last straits, I should have
been glad indeed to have helped him.
The tragic episode of Nancy's murder by Sikes in
"Oliver Twist" Boz had persuaded himself was one of
his powerful and effective efforts for the Readings. But
this was not the general opinion. It was a gruesome
thing enough, but somewhat overstrained and melo-
dramatic in spite of the old ]\Iacready's murmured
verdict, " Two Macbeths ! Two Macbeths ! " a
flattering criticism which he repeated to me with
pardonable pleasure. The Dublin audience showed
little appreciation, and indeed seemed scarcely to under-
stand. I had tried to make some excuses for them,
on which he good-naturedly Avrote to me.
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Belfast,
Friday, Fifteenth January, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
It was very considerate and thoughtful in you to
■vvTite to me, and I have been much gratified by your
note. It is extraordinarily difficult to understand
(from the point of action) an audience that does not
express itself, and I certainly mistook mine on
Wednesday night. When the murder was done in
London, the people were frozen while it went on, but
came to Ufe when it was over and rose to boiling-point.
I have now told Dolby that henceforth it must be set
apart from all our other effects, and judged by no other
" Reading " standard. \ \
We all unite in kindest regards and^remembrance
to your mother and sisters, and I am ever.
Your affectionate friend,
: • i CHARLES DICKENS.
i mMi
Naturally I was often pressed by friends to introduce
" little things of their own " to the eminent writer.
These I almost invariably put aside, with the result
that I gave offence, save in a special instance or so.
Such was that of the excellent and amiable " Ulster."
Kennedy's Hotel,
Edinburgh,
Saturday, Twelfth December, 1868.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I do not quite understand from your kind note
(forwarded here this morning) whether Sir Bernard
Burke proposes to write those papers, or whether he
suggests them to j'ou. In either case I shall be delighted
to have them for All The Year Round. It is necessarj-
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
that they should appear under separate Iieadings, each
with its own title, as we have already three running
titles.
Fatal Zero is going on famously, and I think will
make a hit. I had a letter from Wilkie Collins yesterday,
much interested in perceiving your scheme and in
following your working of it out.
We purpose being in Dublin on Thursday, 7th
January, and going on to Belfast that afternoon. I
hope we shall find you in readiness to go along with us.
We are working away here and at Glasgow, but must
be in London on the 22nd for a Christmas reading of
the Carol there.
" We " means Dolby and I. He sends you his
kindest regards.
Ever, my dear Fitzgerald,
Faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
It will be seen from the following that his always
favoured contributor was welcome, whether he came
with a short or a long story or with both at once. I
cannot bring myself to bate by one jot the record of
these tilings.
Office of " All The Yeae Round,"
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Monday, Third May, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I answer your letter to Charley myself.
It is perfectly understood between us, that you
write the long serial story next after Mrs. TroUope's.
That is a positive engagement.
When I told Charley to wTite to you respecting a
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
shorter story meanwhile, I meant that to be quite
apart from, and over and above, the aforesaid long one.
May I look at the chapters 3-ou speak of, on decoration ?
I am in a brilliant condition, thank God. Rest and
a little care immediately unshook the railway shaking.
Faithfully yours ever,
CHARLES DICKENS.
It would be difficult to imagine the modern editor
humbly entreating forgiveness for not inserting a
trivial paper.
Manchester,
Sunday, Seventh March, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I had a business letter of reference from your
landlord, Mr. Inderwick, at Birmingham jj^esterday,
and immediately replied to the same.
Don't hate me — more than you can help — when I
say that I have been reading the Sixpenny Shakespeare,
and that I don't see it. I don't think the joke is worth
the great ingenuity expended on it, and I don't think
the public would take it. Wills and Will Making most
excellent. I have placed it — in two parts — already.
It is capital.
Once again don't hate me more than you can help,
.ind Your Petitioner will ever pray (I don't know what
Petitioners pray for).
Ever yours,
CD.
Often — and not merely in stories written for him —
would I find myself in some " tangle " of plot or
situations. And here, as a matter of course, I would
turn for aid to my kind friend. " Come iip," he would
say, " and we will have it all out together." And so
we had, with sure relief and success.
64
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
How pleasantly gay and humorous is this little
scrap on the occasion of my marriage : —
Office of " All The Year Round,"
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Thursday, Sixteenth September, 1869.
iMv DEAR Fitzgerald,
I enclose a cheque for £50. Will you kindly advise
Holdsworth of its safe receipt ?
" The little victims play "
— with ready money — always under those circum-
stances, I am told !
Ever your Venerable Sage,
CHARLES DICKENS.
Once he cheerfully agreed to come to a little experi-
mental dinner at our house, and which must have
amused him from some unexpected and awkward
interruptions, owing to " unrehearsed service," such as
the slow descent of a flood of water down the stairs
from the upper portion, a careless servant having left
the cocks all turned ! I noted the merry twinkle in his
eye struggling with sympathy — and " The little victims
play," a favourite quotation of his, almost on his
lips. The little dame of the house, quite new to the
business, was, as I often pointed out to him, a strange
suggestion of his own Dora, and had the same piquant
and pretty inexperience. She resembled a Sevres china
figure — and had an armoury of charming ways. And
here was her first official performance — a rash one, as
our " establishment," so called, was indifferently
mounted as to servants.
On this occasion there was a delightful bit of
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
comedy, " acted " by our genial guest. I see him,
in the finest spirits, standing at the fireplace just
before dinner. He pulled a letter out of his pocket,
" What can be coming over Forster ? He is getting
inconceivable, incomprehensible. I have just had
this from him. What does he mean ? " He put on his
glasses and began to read : " I am sorry I can't be
with you at F.'s to-night. But, sir, mark you this, no
trespassing on my preserves ; at your peril do so !
Remember, sir, Codliri's the friend, not Short.'" With a
bewildered look repeated Boz, " What does he mean ?
Codlin's the friend, not Short." Then to me, " Have
you any idea ? " I had, and so had the pretty little
hostess, who was simpering and bridhng in a very
interesting way. The fact was, Forster, in his robust
style, always affected to be quite enslaved by the
newest charmer, and assumed that everyone ought to
know it. Dickens could not, or, I suspect, tvould not,
understand. " I think he is a little mad," he said at
last. Forster was indeed an inexhaustible subject of
delight to him — ever fresh, new and varied, and yet his
enjoyment was all the time consistent with their long
friendship.
The following shows the gentle, apologetic method
of explanation when he had to delay or put oflf.
Office of " All The Year Round,''
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Saturday, Thirteenth October, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Make yourself quite easy. There is not the slightest
need for hurry, and^you can take your o"vvn time. I
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
have a story in 2 parts still to place in Nos. not yet
made up.
Until Wednesday and always,
Faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
That " and always " is for me a touching variation
of the familiar formula.
What average editor, it may be said, feels called
upon to make an excuse for missing a contributor at
the office when he calls ?
Gad's Hill Place,
HiGHAM BY Rochester,
Kent,
Sunday, Seventeenth October, 1869.
My deab Fitzgerald,
I have been unfortunate in missing you at the office.
It is at once amusing and amazing to me to find you
speculating whether your new state of life has any-
thing to do with it ! ! ! I am at work upon a new book,
and have had occasional glimpses of a holiday, but
have been there regularly to work — for all that — ■
though not to sleep or stay.
I shall be there again on Thursday. In the meantime
you shall have what is printed of The Bridge of Sighs,
to abbreviate according to your knowledge of the story.
In haste.
Ever affectionately yours,
C. D.
Having had a large experience of all sorts and
conditions of editors — their ways, humours, t'^stimony,
indifference, etc. I am enabled to contrast them with
this super-editor of them all for kindliness, patience,
67
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
humility, and display of fine restraint. It will seem
incredible if I say that -nnthout an exception he
never sent me back a paper without filling a page
or so with good-natured excuses and apologies, as
if begging pardon for being so free. Sometimes he
would lay the blame on himself for not understanding.
Here is a favourite pattern : —
Office of " All The Year Round."
No. 26 Wellington Street,
Strand, London, W.C,
Thursday, Eleventh November, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I am afraid the monkey is anticipated. It has been
exceedingly well done by G. BucklaTid in Land and
Water, and would be a day after the Fair. I was going
to place him to-day, but in the meantime caught sight
of Buckland's paper, which has been extensively copied
in weekly and country journals.
Ever faithfully,
CD.
I may confess— and do confess with pleasure to
anything that gave him enjoyment, though at my
expense — that there was much foundation for the
waggish allusions in various letters as to my unreadiness
or uncertainty, or indeed what is commonly termed
" taking things easy." Nothing did he enjoy more
than some little failings of this kind in one of his friends,
and upon them he played in his own delightful way.
Can I ever forget the inexpressibly roguish glance of the
brilliant eye as he detected the first symptom of a
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
hesitation or uncertainty in accepting his affectionate
and repeated invitations ?
I cannot forget the intense relish and huge enjoyment
of Boz, who used to roar over one jest : " You have
done," he would say, " what no living man has done —
introduced a new term (namely "The Random") into
the ' Chapel.' And they have quite adopted it too !
Wonderful fellow ! They wouldn't do it for me, I
assure you." Then he would go on playing with it,
putting it in the most humorous and truly comical
lights. " You must know, Birtles was with me this
morning, and said gravely : ' I have brought some more
of ]\Ir. Percy Fitzgerald's Randoms.'' Ha, ha, ha !
A capital name too, Randoms ! I congratulate you."
It was indeed delightful to hear him, his enjoyment
was so thorough. It was like Dr. Johnson roaring
and chuckling all down Fleet Street.
In one letter — written only a few weeks before his
death — I find some of this playful "rallying" of me,
which he enjoyed, on the score of typographical
confusion, — which I fear was rather a failing of mine.
These brought serious troubles and inconvenience to
printers and others, but how gently and patiently did he
treat them. The " fraudulent butler " was his name
for the old persecutor, Richard Bentley, of Burlington
Street. He often humorously declared to me that
this old publisher always exactly presented that
image to him. There was much truth in the
description.*
* It is wonderful, by the way, as I read of Boz's early battlings with his
publishers, to think that I should have known, and known well, this ' fraudulent
butler," the first pubhsher of Oliver Twist. To me he was the friendliest of men,
a generous encourager, while his spirited faith in my first novel, Bdla Donna,
written for him, led Boz to invite me to furnish him with a series of novels.
69
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Office of " All the Year Round,"
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Thursday, Nineteenth August, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
My difficulty about your story has been a report
from Birtles that " the copy of some part of another
story had got mixed with it, and it was impossible to
make sense." You were then just married and gone.
I waited until you should have leisure. Now that I hear
from you, I tell you only I have waited, and ask : — " Is
the story made straight, and is it at the Printer's ? "
Reply, reply, reply, as Bishop's Duet says. Reply
also to this : — How long is it ?
An Experience is, according to my thinking, one of
the most remarkable pieces I ever saw.
The Authoress of Veronique (Marryatt's daughter)
really had hit upon that title before Mrs. Trollope chose
Veronica. The fraudulent butler, you see, wouldn't
change it : because he gets it advertised at our
expense. Such are the wiles of fraudulent butlers in
general !
I hope that Mrs. Fitzgerald has wrought miracles in
the way of diabolically direct and persistent decision
on the part of an eminent literary personage. It
will be the crowning triumph and glory of the great
Institution of IMatrimony !
You ask me about Wills and Will-making. I think
the Soane case altogether too grimly dismal — and too
recent for revival. With the Berkele\' Family I will
have nothing editorial to do, " in possession, reversion,
remainder, or expectancy." Another case better not
raked up, until years shall have softened it.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Ever faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
70
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
But a sort of crisis was now approaching. Here
was a gentle but liumorous warning which I fear was
unheeded.
Office of " All The Year Round,"
26 Wellington St.,
Strand, W.C,
Thursday, Eighteenth November, 1869.
My dear Fitzgerald,
For my sake — if not for Heaven's — do, I entreat
you, look over your manuscript before sending it to the
printer. Its condition involves us all in hopeless con-
fusion, and really occasions a great unnecessary cost.
I was going to place the enclosed article just now, but
found it really impossible to deal with, having regard
to the other business to be done.
Ever faithfully,
C. D.
How tolerant was this. A modern editor would be
utterly unceremonious — " would stand no nonsense,"
" return the copy," and so on. There is something
almost pathetic in this appeal — for such it is — no
reproof, no chidings, but " I entreat you," " for my
sake " to carry out his business with regularity, and
in decent order !
At last, however, his patience gave way, and on one
occasion he had to give me a serious rebuke, which I
must say was richly deserved. I know that I am "giving
myself away," as it is called, by making these frank
confessions ; but I am indemnified for such humiliation
b}^ supplying fresh testimony to his generous and
indulgent kindness. But coming from him it was
indeed severe.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Office of " All The Year Round,"
26 Wellington Street,
Strand, W.C,
Wednesday, Ninth 31 arch, 1870.
My dear Fitzgerald,
You make me very uneasy on the subject of your
^Qw long story here, and by sowing your name
oroadcast in so many fields at once, and undertaking
such an impossible amount of fiction at one time.
Just as you are coming on with us you have another
serial in progress in The Gentleman's Magazine, and
another announced in Once a Week, and so far as I
know the art we both profess, it cannot be reasonably
pursued in this way. 1 think the short story you are
now finishing in these pages obviously marked by
traces of great haste and small consideration, and a
long story similarly blemished would really do the
publication irreparable harm.
These considerations are so much upon my mind
that I cannot forbear representing them to 3'ou, in the
hope that they may induce you to take a little more
into account the necessity of care and preparation,
and some self-denial in respect of the quantity done.
I am quite sure that I write fully as much in your
interest as in that of All the Year Round.
Believe me,
Always faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
I have often turned back to this rebuke, given over
forty years ago, only three months before his death.
I can see that it pained him to give it ; but the interests
of the journal were in peril, and he had to be cruel to
be kind. " I cannot forbear representing " these
remonstrances. This was gentle indeed.
So with eyes at last opened to my folly, I \vrote to
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
him a sincerely genuine and wholly penitent letter. It
received a most kind and generous response, and I
was forgiven at once.
5 Hyde Park Place, W.,
Friday, Eleventh March, 1870.
My dear Fitzgerald,
Of course the engagement between us is to
continue, and I am sure you know me too well to
suppose that I have ever had a thought to the contrary.
Your explanation is (as it naturally would be, being
yours) manly and honest, and I am both satisfied and
hopeful.
Ever yours,
chari.es dickens.
In connection with these gentle reproofs, I find
in an old irregular diary this scrap : " Mrs. Forster
telling me to-day his dining with them : of his liking
for me : of his saying, ' He can do anything if he only
gave himself fair play.' He then recounted to them
how he had wTitten to me a regualar ' blowing up,' as
he called it, which he said ' he would not take from
anyone else. He is a good fellow.' He then was
pleased to expatiate on the last scene in a story I had
written, called Seventy-five Brooke Street : ' The finest
and most powerful thing. If I didn't know the man I
would certainly have made him out.' " Here is a
prodigious piece of egotism, it will be said ; " what lack
of taste to report these things ; " but I am too proud of
the testimonial from such a man to be silent in the
matter. It was the always amiable Mrs. Forster who
reported the talk to me, knowing that it would give
intense pleasure.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
We were now preparing for the issue of a novel
by myself, in the shape of the then invariable three
volumes, or " three decker," as it was called. This
format the libraries insisted as furnishing more
profit, the work, if popular, being given out volume
by volume. The system has long since given place
to the single volume. We had many councils on the
subject, its treatment and title. At devising the
latter Boz was wonderfully suggestive.
The following note relates to the new book : —
5 Hyde Pakk Place, W.,
Monday, Tiventy-eighth March, 1870.
My dear Fitzgerald,
I am very sorry I was not at home.
It gives me the greatest pleasure to receive such
good tidings of the new story, and I shall enter on its
perusal in proof with the brightest appreciation. Will
you send as much of it as you can spare to the office.
With kindest regard to Mrs. Fitzgerald.
Ever faithfully yours,
CHARLES DICKENS.
With reference to the title of the book he
wrote me : —
5 Hyde Park Place, W.,
Monday, Foiirth April, 1870.
My dear Fitzgerald,
It strikes me that a quaintly expressive title for
such a book would be :
The Doctor's Mixture.
What do you think of it ?
Ever faithfully,
"^C. D.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Tliis selection of a title was made but a few weeks
before his death, but it struck me as being not exactly
" quaintly expressive." For the story turned upon a
country doctor, who had two charming daughters,
whom it was the object of his life to " marry off "
advantageously. They were set forth as highly
attractive. Now it was plain that to describe them
as though they were one of his own medicine bottles
left a disagreeable impression. However, I would
not for the world object. But later the publisher,
when it came to appear in the three volumes, summarily
abolished the title against my wish, and substituted
Two Fair Daughters.
I little dreamed at the time that this was to be the
last of these agreeable united efforts of ours, and that
almost with the appearance of the first chapter his
bright lamp was to go out.
CHAPTER V
CLOSING SCENES. THE DINNER PARTY AND CONCERT.
HIS LAST DESPONDING LETTERS AND DEATH.
I CAN recall the fitful flurry and excitement of the
day before his setting out on his disastrous expedition
to the United States. The scene, as it appears to me
now, some fifty years away, was one long and
agitated one, going on all the day in the little cribbed
and cabined office in Wellington Street. Here people
were arriving at every moment, imperative to see him ;
and I would squeeze past them in the narrow stair
several times in the day. The central figure was the
worn, well frayed man, now looking at a letter brought
in hastily, now engaged with some business man ; and
yet he could find time to talk to me. Firstly, as he
insisted, I must come with him on the farewell party
down to Liverpool, stay with him at the Adelphi Hotel,
and have a pleasant night. Then he had been
interested about a Life of Garrick I was getting
ready. Could I do this for him — get him the
sheets (it was then in the press) — it would amuse him
in his cabin ? As to the anticipated entertainment and
solace, that was doubtful enough. In the flurry, and
once more, I think, on the dark " squeezed " stair,
I gave him a trifling souvenir — a sealskin cigar case —
which he good-naturedly said was " just the thing he
was wanting." I flew to the printing-house, where I
found they were only too flattered at such a commission,
and hurriedly " took off " a special set of the proofs.
76
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
As for the farewell expedition to Liverpool, for some
reason I was unable to go ; but I fancy it must have been
a melancholy business. The poor victim must have had
a weight of anxiety on him, with a feeUng of uncertainty.
One of my last communications with our amiable
'■ chief " was still destined to be associated with his
old haunt, the little office in Wellington Street— the old
familiar workshop, whither for over fifteen years I had
been visiting. These visits later were connected with
a story, into the scheme of which he entered readily.
Indeed, I never di-eamed when I gave him a sketch of
it that he would wish to have it. I see him now — it was
in the last weeks — the worn, buifeted face, the strained
eyes, peering through the gold-rimmed glasses, always
of strong power ; the face bent downi to the manuscript
which lay on the table, and which he stooped to turn
over. The -wTiting was not of the clearest — these were
the far-ofif pre-typeivriting days — and I recall his half sigh
as he gave up the difficult task. But he would have it.
Such scenes as this are vividly imprinted on my
memory, long ago as it is ; and trifling as they are, they
seem to me the only records of the kind that we have,
showing him as he was m his literary life and work.
In the year of his death he had taken a house for the
season — Milner Gibson's — near the Marble Arch, where
I remember about liis first act was to give me and my
pretty partner a " wedding dinner." There was a
large party, one of whom was a gay, agreeable man
Avell known about to^\^l, who a year or two later " came
to grief," with other notables. On going into the
drawing-room, the host took me aside, and said, " There
is a young artist here whom I would ask you to be
77
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
attentive to. He is the one I have chosen to illustrate
the new book." And he introduced me to the present
Sir Luke Fildes, then very young, but of very high
promise — " strongly recommended by IMillais," he said.
On this occasion I found myself next to Sir Edwin
Landseer, then, like his host, almost close on his term.
The house had been, it is well known, associated with
Mr. Home's feats, and an amusing discussion arose
between the host and the painter, who had witnessed
some of them. Nay, it was affirmed that on the
drawing-room ceiling there was still to be seen the
medium's signature in pencil, \\Titten while he was
aloft floating in the air. Sir Edwin was an agreeable
neighbour. Not very long before he had gone to an
artist, of whom I knew something, and who also painted
animals. Noticing the lumps of paint—" scrapings "
of the palette — on a piece of board, he took it up, and
carelessly, but with art, worked all into a spirited
dog's head. It was pleasing to hear the two old friends
jesting with each other across the table.
Later on he gave a concert, a more ambitious
effort, and a very interesting thing indeed it was to see
his rooms filled with a mixture of the town elements —
artistic, literary, and fashionable. His friend Joachim
came to play for him, with also various singers of
eminence, gratified to give him that proof of their
regard. There were Santley, Halle, Cummings, and
the Glee Union. So the music was admirable. He
himself was in good spirits, though not looking well ;
but he was ever genial, doing his host-duties every-
where with animation, taking ladies up and down to
supper.
I recall a pretty scene in the course of the night. A
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
little lady who all agreed was a replica of " Dora " in
Coppcrfield, and could prattle in the most engaging
manner, encountered our host in the crush, and stopped
him : " Now, I\Ir. Dickens, I have been here the whole
night and you have never come near me. Most unkind
of you." " Do you think so," he cried, with a sort of
boisterous earnestness. " Then let us go down to supper,
and there we will make-up." And off she sailed in
triumph.
" I have delayed," he wrote to her two days after his
own party, " answering your kind note on the chance
of discovering some loophole in my engagements for
to-night. But I am sorry to say that I have got into
a complicated state of engagements. This almost
always happens in the last month of my term or stay
in town, but this year it is worse than ever. Pray
accept a dismal absentee's best wishes for a great
success to-night, and give Percy my kindest regards.
To crown my distresses, I write with a steel pen (Avhich
I can never use), closely hemmed in on each side " (he
was writing from a club) " by a talkative person of
disagi-eeable opinions."
Indeed, at this time he knew not what was
impending ; and yet, as was indeed to be expected
with a man of his position, he was pursued with
invitations to dinners and parties.
Every letter he contrived to make pleasant
by some little stroke or picture in his own manner.
Within a few days he was again writing, from his
favourite country place :
" I have been obliged to fly for a time from the
dinings and other engagements of this London season,
and to take refuge here to get myself into my usual
gymnastic condition, where I am looking forward to
79
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
the pleasure of welcoming you and F to this pretty
country. I have been subject for a few years past to
a neuralgic attack in the foot, originating in over-
walking in deep snow, and revived by a hard winter
in America. For the last three weeks it has made me
dead-lame, and it now obliges me to beg absolution
from all the social engagements I had made. Depriva-
tion of my usual walks is a very serious matter to me,
as I cannot work unless 1 have my constant exercise.
Your kind note, therefore, finds me helpless and moody,
but virtuously virtuous. I shall hope to be vicious
again soon, and to report myself to you as a good
example of dissipation and free living, until when and
always, yours," etc.
Here was the last of these cheery, ever-interesting
letters, full of his never-failing good nature.
The preceding one referred to some private
theatricals we were giving, for which I had written
a light comedy with a part specially designed for his
daughter Mamie. He good-naturedly interested himself
in the plan, read it, and studied, and criticised ; but
for some reason, now forgotten, the scheme was not
carried out.*
I fancy he thought the part did not suit her.
It was now come to June, 1870. He encouraged me
with praise of my new serial, "The Doctor's Mixture,"
had read what had been wTitten, and thought it would
do well. It was to open the volume on Saturday, June
the Fourth, and on that daj'^ it made its appearance. By
the following Thursday, the fatal ninth, he was gone !
The fourth to the seventh chapters must have been
the last he had "made up" for publication. They
* The general wonder was the attendance of the great recluse, ray faithful
patron. Sir K. Lytton Bulwer, seen in a conspicuous stall listening with patience
to our amateur exertions.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
appeared on June 11th. It gave one a thrill to read
in the isssue for June ISth, some eight days after his
death, this announcement of his story : —
" 1Mb. Dickens' new work.
Just published, price One Siulling.
Part Three of
' The Mystery of Edwin Drood.'
To be completed in twelve monthly numhersy
I recall in these closing days a dramatic entertain-
ment given by Lady Freake, a well-known personage
of some fashion, where was assembled a large company
to witness a dramatic performance in which his
daughters, Miss Dickens and Mrs. Charles Collins, took
part. The pieces were got up with extraordinary
pains, the first being a French one. The Prima Donna,
with a blind girl as heroine. The scenery was arranged
and designed by Mr. Millais, as he was then.
CROMWELL HOUSE.
Thursday, June 2, 1870.
Mr. Honeyton
Mrs. Honeyton
Dr. Holbein
Eric
Rouble
Stella
Alice
A HAPPY PAIR."
characters.
Mr. Augustus Saldino
Miss Harriet Young
PRIMA DONNA.'
characters.
Mr. Hastings Hughes
Mr. Crawford Grove
Mr. Herman Merivale
Miss Dickens
Mrs. Charles Collins
"LE MYOSOTIS.
Bouffonerie.
iirliilioii (Empailleur)
■huitzberg (Violoncelliste) .. .. 1
Mr. Harold Power
[r. Alfred Thompson
81
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
The acting of the two ladies was exceedingly
touching and clever — as was indeed to be expected
with so skilled and painstaking an instructor, who had
taken enormous pains. He was behind the scenes the
whole time. I had just one glimpse of a well-worn,
all but haggard face, flitting by, and this was to be my
last vision of that noble, ever amiable man. He got
home as speedily as he could, and away to the country
to the soft restoring breezes of his loved Kentish home.
That night of the play was Thursday. On the following
Thursday he was seized with the last fatal attack.
I find these abrupt entries in a Diary : —
June 9th, 1870, at 6 p.m.
Died dear Charles Dickens ! I think at this moment
of his dear genial manner — never changing — so cordial
and hearty, the delightful days at Belfast, the travelling
in the trains, the evenings at the hotel, he lying on the
sofa and listening to my stories. Even the last time that
I saw him, which was in Wellington Street some four
weeks ago, about our plays, when we talked of them,
and he complained so sadly of the going out of the
dinners, and his regrets that he could not be Avith us
and our party. However he tvould come in after-
wards if he could. I think of his figure — his small
shoulders — his bringing me in to look at the placard
of The Doctor's Mixture, just hung up, and fresh
from the printer's. His talking of Regnier ; and
on my saying he had acted in les Vieux Gar(07is,
his saying it was proper : " For you know he is
a vieux garpn himself." I think of our little dinners,
when he was so delightful. O ! that we had had
more of them ! Somehow, since I have been here
the image of him has been stamped more on me. I
see and love him more. And he, poor, poor, hard-
working being, to think that all is over for him
now. R.I. P.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
I think of him, too, at Belfast, lying on the sofa
while I was telling him about Forster and the Degree
at Dublin, and laughing so, and his saying to me
lately that " that was one of our regular stock stories
— it is capital — very good." The pang I now feel is,
" Why hadn't we him with us oftener ? "
Tuesday, June 14, '70.
Just come from Westminster Abbey, leaving outside
a sultry, hot, fiercely-glowing day — and walked into the
great cool vault, across, under the stained glass window
to where was a ci'owd, and found forms tied together
to make a fence, with a black cloth fringe : downi below
— not very low — the oak coffin in panels — handsome —
and a well-cut, bold inscription. How it affected me
looking down on that bright name, Charles Dickens.
I seemed to see his brighter face. To think that he
was lying there looking up. A wreath of white roses
over his feet, a great bank of ferns at his head, rows
of white and red roses down the side.
So ends that melancholy chapter.
CHAPTER VI
A GLIMPSE OF FORSTER, CABLYLE AND BROWNING
In those far-off days there were two eminent men
of letters who found themselves associated with Charles
Dickens — two men eminently worthy of his friendship
and admiration. One Thomas Carlyle, perhaps the
greatest literary power and genius of the era ; the
other John Forster, Boz's faithful and devoted friend
and adviser. I have several times seen the trio
together, and witnessed the devout and affectionate
bearing of both men to the " sage of Chelsea," and his
solemn good humour shown to both in return.
And what a trio ! What gifted, original men —
two at least : the third, the chosen confidential friend
of both. The adviser, holder of all their secrets — and
here was I — moi qui vous parte — certainly on very
intimate terms \vith all three. I gladly, therefore,
turn aside here for a few moments to call up the
images of these very remarkable persons.
One of the most robust, striking, and many-sided
characters of his time was John Forster, a rough, un-
compromising personage, who, from small and obscure
beginnings, shouldered his way to the front until he
came to be looked on by all as guide, friend and arbiter.
From a struggling newspaperman he emerged into
handsome chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields, from
thence to a snug house in Montague Square, ending in
a handsome stone mansion which he built for himself
84
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
at Palace Gate, Kensington, with its beautiful library
at the back and every luxury of " lettered ease."
If anyone desired to know what Dr. Johnson was
like, he might have found him in Forster. There was
the same social intolerance, the same " dispersion of
humbug," the same loud voice, attuned to a mellifluous
softness on occasion, especially with ladies or persons
of rank ; the love of " talk," in which he assumed the
lead, and kept it too, and the contemptuous scorn of
what he did not approve. But then all this was backed
by admirable training and full knowledge. He was a
deeply read, cultivated man, a fine critic, and with all
his arrogance, despotism and rough " ways," a most
interesting, original, delightful person — for those, that
is, whom he liked, and had made his own. His
very " build " and appearance was also that of the
redoubtable Doctor, so was his loud and hearty laugh.
Woe betide the man on whom he chose to " wipe his
shoes " (Browning's phrase), for he could wipe them
with a will. He would thus roar you down. It was
" intoZ-er-able " — everything was " in-tol-erable " — it
is difficult to describe the fashion in which he rolled
forth the syllables. Other things were " all Stuff ! "
'■ Monstrous ! " " Incredible ! " " Don't tell me ! "
Indeed I, with many, could find a parallel in the great
old Doctor for almost everything he said. Even when
there was a smile at his vehemence, he would uncon-
sciously repeat the Doctor's autocratic method.
Forster's life was indeed a striking and encouraging
one for those who believe in the example of " self-made
men." His aim was somewhat different from the
worldly types, who set themselves to become wealthy
or to have lands or mansions. His more moderate
aspiration was to reach to the foremost rank of the
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
literary world, and he succeeded. He secured for
himself an excellent education, never spared himself
for study or work, and never rested till he had built
himseK that noble mansion at Kensington, of which I
have spoken, furnished with books, pictures, and rare
things. Here he could, Msecenas-like, entertain his
hterary friends of all degrees, ^\^th a vast number of
other friends and acquaintances, notable in their walks
of life. It is astonishing what a circle he had gathered
round him, and how intimate he was with all — political
men such as Brougham, Guizot, Gladstone, Cornewall
Lewis, Bright, Cobden (Disraeli he abhorred as much as
his friend of Chelsea did) ; Maclise, Landseer, Millais,
Frith, and Stanfield, with dozens of other painters ;
every Amter of the day, almost Avithout exception, late or
early. With some of these, such as Anthony Trollope, he
was on the friendliest terms, though he did not " grapple
them to him with hooks of steel." With the Bar it was
the same : he was intimate Avith the brilliant and
agreeable Cockburn, with Lord Coleridge (then plain
Mr. Coleridge), who found a knife and a fork laid for
him any day that he chose to drop in, which he did
pretty often. The truth was that in any company his
marked personality, both physical and mental, his
magisterial face and loud decided voice, and his reputa-
tion of judge and arbiter, at once impressed and com-
manded attention. People felt that they ought to
know this personage at once.
It was something to talk to one who had been
intimate with Charles Lamb, of whom he once spoke
to me, with tears running down his cheeks, " Ah !
poor dear Charles Lamb ! " The next day he had
summoned his faithful clerk, instructing him to look
out among his papers — such was his way — for all the
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Lamb letters, which were then lent to me. And most
interesting they were. In one Elia calls him " Foorster,''
I fancy taking oflf Carlyle's pronunciation.
As a wTiter and critic Forster held a high, un-
questioned place, his work being always received with
respect as of one of the masters. He had based
his style on admirable, if somewhat old-fashioned
models, had regularly learned to write, which few do
now, by studying the standard wi'iters : Swift, Addison,
and, above all, the classics.
At this time the intimacy between Boz and the
young writer — two young men, for they were only
thirty-six — was of the closest. Dickens's admiration
of his friend's work on Goldsmith was unbounded.
He read it with delight, and expressed his admiration
with an affectionate enthusiasm. It was no wonder
that in " gentle Goldsmith's life " thus unfolded he found
a replica of his own sore struggles. No one knew
better the " fiercer crowded misery in garret toil and
London loneliness " than he did. Here is Forster' s
sonnet : —
TO CHARLES DICKENS.
Genius and its rewards are briefly told :
A liberal nature and a niggard doom,
A difficult journey to a splendid tomb.
New writ, nor lightly weighed, that story old
In gentle Goldsmith's life I here unfold ;
Thro' other than lone wild or desert gloom,
In its mere joy and pain, its blight and bloom,
Adventurous. Come with me and behold,
0 friend with heart as gentle for distress,
As resolute with fine wise thoughts to bind
The happiest to the unhappiest of our kind.
That there is fiercer crowded misery
In garret toil and London loneliness
Than in cruel islands mid the far off sea.
March, 184:8. John Forster.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It will be noted what a warmth of affection is shown
in these pleasing lines. Some of the verses linger in
his memory, the last three especially. The allusion to
Dickens is as truthful as it is charming. The " cruel
islands mid the far off sea " was often quoted, though
there were sometimes sarcastic appeals to the author
to name his locality. This "Life and Adventures of
Oliver Goldsmith " is a truly charming book — charming
in the WTiting, in its typographic guise, and its forty
graceful illustrations by his friends, jMaclise, Leech,
Browne, etc. It appeared in 1848, and has gone through
many editions. A pleasing feature of those times was
the close fellowship between the ATOters and the painters
and other artists, as was shown in the devoted affection
of Maclise and others to Dickens. Artists and writers
are not thus united nowadays.
" My dear Forster," A\Tote Boz to him, " I cannot
sufficiently say how proud I am of what you have done,
and how sensible I am of being so tenderly connected
with it. I desire no better for my fame, when my
personal dustiness shall be past the contrast of my
love of order, than such a biographer — and such a
critic."
I could alwaj's understand that Irish friend of
Johnson's, and his rapturous devotion, when I first
saw Carlyle. Of all living men at that time you felt :
" Here is a really great one," and this owing to his
complete lack of affectation, and his ever saying, like
his brother sage, what he thought. This Irish Doctor
used to call out, " Och ! sure I 'd like to give him half
my sleep ! " a truly original testimonial ; or, " 1 'd
go down on my bare knees every night and black his
shoes ! " Is there anyone now " worth while attending
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
to at all " after such tributes as these ? No. Surely
we are all mediocre together — an age of mediocrity.
All familiar with Carlj^e's letters will recall his
vehemently expressed detestation of those who
suggested his sitting to them for his portrait. He would
spurn the idea with his most contemptuous expressions.
Not man}^ weeks before his death I had begun to
entertain myself by modelling — or striving to model —
his noble head, partly from recollection, partly from a
photograph. It occurred to me : " What if I ask him
to let me bring Avith me my apparatus, clay, etc., and
try to do my best with him in this direction ? " To
my literal amazement his niece, Mary Carlyle Aitken —
then in careful charge of him — wrote to me saying
that her uncle would be pleased to sit ! How gracious
this was of him, and how good-natured ! I was friend
to " Foorster," Boz and the " set." I can call up the
whole scene of that notable day : the quaint old house
for background, the panelled walls, the cab laden with
clay, my trusty man carrying up the sacred head in
its moist \vrappings, I following the whole, rather
tremulous, as the procession entered the solemn
chamber. Here was the grim sage, waiting — solemn
and expectant — the excellent niece standing watchful.
He greeted me in kindly fashion. Alas ! that day
must be at least thirty years ago, so it is much faded
out ; sad, too, to think that I was but indiflEerently
skilled at the time to make profit of so precious an
opportunity. What was worse, I felt a sh3rness in
dealing boldly with the clay for fear of losing such
hkeness as I had got.
I see him now, wrapped in his Scotch plaid by the
fire, and clearly in some sort of anticipation. About
ten years later I was in the house, then become the
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
museum, and was called upon to fix the room, but
could not recall it. I fancy it was his bedroom.
At first he disposed himself with a sort of alacritJ^
" Noo, of covirse, I may talk freely ? "
" Well," I said doubtfully, " I really "
" Oh, but I must talk — and smoke too."
His niece, who seemed to supervise, supported my
hesitation, but I interposed, and so we set to work.
I forget noAv the many things he touched upon —
mostly " poor Foorsther — trew honest fellow ! —
Dickens — a noble hairt — both long since dead."
I recall the actual words of one question put with a
shrewd, sarcastic tone : " What d 'ye hear noo of our
Jew Premier ? "
Finally, after about a couple of hours' stay — for I
would not trespass — I gathered up my tools and appa-
ratus and took my way thence, much marvelling at my
own assurance. The work, such as it is, has found a
refuge in Chelsea Town Hall. It represents him in the
notorious felt hat and shawl. I fervently begged of his
niece to give me, as a souvenir of this meeting, one of
his precious churchwardens, and she was good enough
to say she would send it on ; but it never reached me —
not a surprising thing, as it was a " ticklish," impossible
thing to pack, being so brittle.
His friend Forster was not one of those niggard
monopolists who jealously keep their great literary
friends in a preserve to themselves, as though in
dread of impairing their own influence. He was ever
large-hearted and generous in this direction. You
constantly heard him : " My dear friend, you must
know Dickens," or " you shall meet Carljde." With
Forster to announce or engage for a thing, to say
" shall " or " must," meant that it was as good as done.
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PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Indeed, it is difficult to think of Carlyle or appreciate
him without calHng up the image of John Forstcr,
who was really almost as much his invaluable ally and
assistant as he was of Boz. One of the witnesses to
Carlyle's will was Hares, or Haires, Forster's own
butler at Palace Gate House, the same who, on his
master's death, quaintly informed me what was the real
cause of his death. " Fact was, sir, he had no staminer.''''
I can recall meetings with the great man of a quite
unofficial kind. Here was a quartette dinner :
Forster, Dickens, Tliomas Carlyle, and myself ! That
was a privilege, indeed ! And a delightful meeting
it was. I recall Boz " playing round " the sage as
Garrick did round Johnson — affectionately and in high
good humour and wit, and, I could well see, much
pleasing the old lion. It was pleasing to see him
after dinner smoking away in his rough garments, for
he was privileged to dress as he would. And it will be
asked, what did I in that galere ? How did I get there
and into such company ? Well, simply by no merit
of my own, but by favour and owing to the
unwearying kindness of my host. I may be absolved
from an appearance of egotism or vanity if I quote the
following, which will explain how it came about, and
which is really typical of the hundreds of good offices
which " Fuz " was ever doing —
" I will be very angry with you (really angry and
discontented every way) if you do not teach yourself,
before you next cross the Channel, to regard this house
as in some sort a second ' roof -tree ' — and if you do
not come here as a matter of course, and without any
nonsense or botheration, very frequently indeed. That
is as long as it may be pleasant to you to do so — and
not to refuse a genuine pleasure to me.
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
" On this head I will not say more than that I have
a real regard for you, and that you have no surer way
of making me happy and obliged than by coming to see
me. Do you know what Wallenstein said of Max —
" ' For oh ! he stood beside me like my youth.' "
Later, I recall being bidden to a sort of banquet at
Palace Gate. The sage always made an exception in
favour of " the good Forsther," as distinguished from
common lion-hunters, and by special favour would
consent to dine and be exhibited to a few. On this
occasion " the table was full," and we had a notable
gathering : The Brownings (father and son), Robert
L3'tton, Elwin the Editor, who was in obstreperous
spirits, and told humorously to the whole table an
account of his drive with a madman on that very day.
This was, in truth, a reconciliation dinner, for the once
eternally beloved Browning. " My dear friend," used
Forster to say to me, " you should come to dine on
Sunday, but know that is consecrated to Browning — •
nothing interferes with that Sunday dinner. 'Tis
sacred. It has gone on for years."
Yet after years and years of this intimacy a violent
quarrel occurred, with a dual threat of " hurling the
decanter," etc. Amazing ! But as Boz was so fond of
quoting, " These violent delights have violent endings."
The quaintest thing, however, for a cynic to note was
that actually at this "dinner of reconciliation" the
quarrel was nigh breaking out afresh, our host
"setting down" a guest a little too triumphally, and
I, who was beside the poet, saw him biting his lip and
striving to control himself.
And it always struck me that Boz was not much
drawn to this poet, who seemed of a rather cold
temperament, and besides liked the false world of
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
fashion, I constantly found him at Forster's house,
and the pair seemed to be devoted friends ever. To
myself, he was ahvay friendly, though I must confess
I was often embarrassed by my host's tumultuous
praise and invitations to his friend to praise what
he praised. It was in this way. I once described to
my friend a recitation of a young lady who gave
Poe's " The Bells " with pantomimic illustrations ;
for instance, always simulating the pulling of the
rope, so as to convey the fire bell, wedding bell, and
so on. A rarer comical exhibition I never witnessed,
and I used to be called to " do it" for a friend.
Poor BroAviiing, however, bore it very well. Alas ! —
''''Ay de me!''' as the sage used to groan it — have we
such dramatic figures before us now ! They were
characters and powerful characters, so that they
arrested the eye and secured attention and interest.
Forster was a most " tempestuous " man — a perfect
Berserker ; yet with Carlyle it was wonderful to see how
gentle, how devotional almost, he could be, treating
him like some altogether " superman," to use the
jargon of our time, attuning his voice to the lowest,
sweetest accents, anticipating his every wish, and
striving to show gratitude for the condescension of a
visit. I well recall on one occasion how the host,
in a very delicate way, showed how much he wished to
please his guest. After dinner, when the ladies had
gone, there was the usual little flourish about " Mr.
Carlyle' s churchwarden and tobacco," which had been
sent out for to a special tobacconist, brought in and
laid before him with much formality, we all looking
on reverently as he filled the bowl and lit. We looked
again as he drew his first inlialation, and a very old-
fashioned and not unpicturesque figure he presented,
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
sunk in armchair by the fire with the yard-long clay
in his fingers. I and Robert Lytton, thinking there
was now a general license, drew forth our cigars and
lit up ; but we presently heard our host calling from
the top of the table in friendly rebuke, " My dear
Robert Lytton and Percy, this is all very well, but
]Mr. Carlyle is one thing — j^ou are another. Anything
lie pleases to do here he is welcome to do, and I am
proud that he does it. He may smoke, but I have not
given the privilege to others at this table of mine. You
have both taken it on yourselves without consulting
me at all. Well, well, what 's done is done. So I
suppose you must go on." We, of course, were
penitent, but perfectly understood for whom the speech
was really intended. And the great Thomas chuckled
hoarsely to himself, enjoying his friend's humour.
This illustrates what now would seem a singular social
restraint — the law against smoking after dinner.
There was something highly musical or melodious
in Carlyle's voice which it was delightful to listen to —
a sort of chanting or monotone, very rich, rising and
falling. The laugh or " chuckle " was hardly so
pleasant, having something rather bitter and scoffing,
a sort of " gibing," as it were.
This dinner was a pleasant one. Our host had the
art, from long practice, of keeping all " in movement,"
and rather skilfully drew out his great friend without
unduly pressing him. It was after the ladies had gone
that my turn came rather unexpectedly in the shape
of a regular bear's hug, much as Bozzy got shaken and
mauled at his first presentation to his sage. The Irish
Church was being abolished, and the sage declaimed
rather vehemently on the topic ; but to our surprise,
condemned it as " puir foolish, hasty thing." He
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
spoke in a very interesting way, deploring the loss of
the local clergyman who, he protested, " had a vara
ceevilizirC influence on the native." He then spoke
of the various agitations, repeal of the Union, and
so on. But when I incautiously ventured to say half-
laughingly, " There you have, at least, the logical
solution — departure," a pei-fect cmip de theatre followed —
coup de foudre rather. With a look of fury and in hoarse
tones he roared out, " We '11 joost cut every one of yer
thraits first.'" Shall I ever forget the delighted roar of
enjoyment that burst from the listeners ! They were
enchanted, as they told me later ; were all even
infinitely obliged to me for " poking up the old Lion,"
and I had done so effectively. I forget what reply
I made, but I saw that " the old Lion " enjoyed the
situation and the general applause.
In the drawing-room I was standing apart — perhaps
looking a little rueful after my castigation — when I
heard the chime of his fine voice at my ear : " Well,
tell me now," he said gently, " and how goes on your
account of that wratched creature, Dodd, the forger
pairson ? Jest tell me all aboot him." At that
time I was also busy with a Life of Sterne, the first
that had been attempted, and Boz used to be
infinitely merry on what he called "my two dis-
reputable parsons." And Carlyle entered into the
matter with apparent or real interest. Here was his
little amende for the rough-and-tumble onset below.
How amiable of him ! It reminded me irresistibly
of the scene in Boswell's book, of Johnson's rude
setting do^vn of Goldy, and of his coming up to him
later in the night with some soothing words. " It
is much, sir, from you that I can take ill ! " I might
have replied with Goldy.
MEMOKIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
By the way, may I claim here as a \VTiter to have
done a rather unusual thing ? To have written a
Life of and also edited Johnson, and fashioned a bronze
statue of him, to be seen in the Strand ; to have ^^Titten
a Life of Boswell, and made a statue of him for
Lichfield; to have written a Life of Sterne and
fashioned a sitting bronze figure to be seen in the
Cathedral Library at York ; to have Avritten a Life of
Dickens, and set up busts of him in Holborn and Bath.
This is at least a rather unique record.
I recall yet another interesting night at this same
Palace Gate House, where an unbounded hospitality
seemed ever to reign. The kindly Forster had asked
me and my two sisters, well-trained musicians, to dine
and meet the sage. It was a large party — INIrs.
Lehman, nee Chambers (of Edinburgh), and some
more. By a rare stroke I found myself beside the
great man, but discovered, rather to my surprise, that
he did not encourage talk, being otherwise busy. And
the cue was not to disturb him. But at times I would
hear him breaking into an odd sotto voce comment — as
if to himself — on any statement that caught his ear,
as when some Bishop's or Archbishop's proceedings
or speeches were mentioned, " Ach ! the puir auld
dotard ! " followed by a sort of ferocious chuckle.
This was really very funny, and the drollery was that
<almost everyone alluded to was invariably described
as " a wTatched auld dodderin' fule." As he spoke
his words were literally addressed to his plate ! The
cue, however, was to leave him entirely alone.
He had a passion for all national airs — notably for
his own, also relishing the Irish — above all, the
Marseillaise, Ca ira, and the like. ]\Iy sisters knew
many of these lilts, as did the Scotch lady, so we were
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PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
likely to have a " field night." My youngest sister,
who had a well-trained voice, knew what was expected,
and came prepared with her stock of " Irish melodies "
— Meeting of Waters, and the rest — with others of a
more florid cast. I had warned her that the way to
the sage's heart Avas not by " show off " paths, but by
appealing to his sympathies ; but this advice was not
followed. At the close there came a long-sustained
chuckling, with a sort of private commentary, addressed
half to himself, though not to the singer, " Ach ! the
puir Tammy — puir little Tammy Moore ! " This over
again several times. " Puir Tammy ! ' call my spirit
from this troubled world.' Likely he 'd go ! Hech !
hech ! " It would be hard to give an idea of the pro-
found dramatic contempt conveyed in these words.
It seemed to say, " That trumpery tatter of a creatur ! "
To me I confess it seemed convincing, and the " puir
Tammy's " reputation was demolished on the spot.
" Ach ! but then Rabbie Burrens ! " he broke out again
in a deeply admiring fit, adding a clever criticism
contrasting the two Bards. He graciously and good-
naturedly tried to admire, as one song of " puir
Tammy's " came after the other. " Ach, yes, that 'a
pratty well — but not much. Somehow it does not
reach the hairt. Ah ! the puir Tammy ! hech ! hech !
hech ! wi' his Bulbuls and Bendemeer streams. Hech !
hech ! "
Then came the turn of the Scottish lady, who was
well fitted for her duty, having a genuine national
spirit, and putting much native feeling into her songs.
Of course, she captured the sage, and furnished song
after song to his delight and approbation. But when
my elder sister, ever a thoughtful, capable person,
found herself at the piano, playing snatches of the
97
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
melodies, straying through the minstrelsy, touching
a few snatches here, a few there, hither and thither, by
a happy chance the sage called out, " D 'ye ken
Coiilin ? " Her answer was to strike up at once in
soft appealing chords, and with due feeling and passion,
" The last gUmpse of Erin." The spell wrought at
once — he was enchanted ! He listened without a word
of interruption till the close. Some other things were
tried, but he broke out, " Ach ! play Coulin again ! "
and after an interval was heard yet once again to
order, " Play Coulin again ! " For long after in our
family that became a pleasant catchword, " Play
Coidin again ! " calling up at once that interesting
night and the ever-pleasant and original sage himself.
It proved to me it was an old friend and favourite of
his, which he could " growl " now and then in his
own fashion.
When Dickens died he left to Forster in his honest,
manly will a valuable memorial — his gold watch,
chain, and seals, which he himself had carried so long,
heralding the bequest with the happy words, " To my
trusty friend, John Forster." Nothing could be more
appropriate, for to all his friends was John Forster
" trusty." When Forster died, it was found that he
had bequeathed this watch and chain to his also
" trusty " friend, Thomas Carlyle. So thus had the
little monitor been carried by no less than three dis-
tinguished men of letters. It might have been
worthily preserved, duly shown and cherished for such
memories. But this was not to be. Carlyle, it seems,
had handed it over to his niece (she tells us) to do what
she willed with it. In February, 1876, the very month
and year in which the good Forster died, ilrs. Mary
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
Carlyle Aitken tells us, " My uncle gave me the watch,
&c., which had belonged to Charles Dickens. I gave
away the watch, the seals, and the chain in my uncle's
lifetime, without asking his permission." Had his
permission been asked, would he have shown tliis
i'.idifiference or the contrary ? An interesting
speculation.
But a solution is readily found, and it even does
credit to the sage's delicately sensitive heart. He had
his 0W71 watch, a faithful companion, which he had
carried for innumerable years, which he cherished
affectionately, as though it had been one of his own
loved kindred at Scotsbrig. It was doing its duty
still, and would until his end. Why should he admit
a rival ? This he had no notion of leaving locked up
in drawer unwound, doing no duty in living a sham
life. So he gave it away.
Many have still echoing in their ears his noble
testimonial to his friend, uttered in a burst of grief:
'* The good, the noble, the high-souled, ever friendly
Dickens, — every inch of him an honest man." These
poignant, stirring words have always seemed the best
and most appropriate epitaph. It is so genuine and
so true. For " high-souled " he was ; but above all
"ever friendly," never showing caprice, or humours,
or relaxing, and this because he was " high-souled."
99
II
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
'' Household Words
CHAPTER VII
A NEW DEPARTURE. DICKENS AS AN EDITOR
It is now over forty years since Charles Dickens
passed away from us, to the universal grief of the
nation. Who will forget that disastrous morning
when the news spread abroad ? There had been
a general feeling that he was to be with us for
many years to come ; he seemed to be a sort of asset
of the nation, the unique writer. No one, it was
felt, could write like him, or, at least, in his fashion.
There were no competitors or rivals ; not as now, when
the general market is crowded with candidates, all
competing with one another and playing, to use his
own phrase, on " their little jobbing fiddles." The great
story-teller was gone from us for ever.
The great story-teller ! The one and only ! That
was the popular notion. Yet it is forgotten that this
was but one element in his tumultuous life. His
great aim was to be ever in touch with the busy,
fascinating stream of human emotions and vagaries
that were seething and bubbling around him, of
which he would be the interpreter and preacher.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Here was his life and pastime. We can see it in his
wonderful, profuse letters, into which he put his
whole labour, soul, and entire self. He could see
nothing of interest or excitement passing without
longing to take his share, and giving his interpretation,
serious or humorous. From the very beginning—
from the days of his Sketches by Boz, he was the
general commentator, serious or humorous.
John Forster's truly classical and scholarlike
account of his great friend has been accepted as the
oflficial, sufficient life of Dickens. And it was truly
a happy chance that such a ^\Tite^, and with such
favourable opportunities of personal intimacy and
complete knowledge, should have been at hand to
execute the duty. Fortunate was Dickens and
fortunate the biographer in such a conjunction.
Forster had lofty, severe conceptions as to his duty.
He disdained small things or trivialities, however
interesting, and ruthlessly expunged them all from his
programme. Like Podsnap, his prototj'pe, he put
them behind him. Yet Boz's course was one of
adventure and romance, chequered with all manner
of exciting and amusing episodes, which were thus
completely ignored or passed by, Forster considering
them not of the official essence. Yet such details are,
beyond a doubt, truly interesting, even as a matter of
entertainment. The public would like to hear them,
and had Forster condescended to set them forth, he
could have done so in a very congenial fashion.
With this view he all but completely passed over
that essential and most important section of Boz's life
til at was devoted to periodical -writing. How
important was this function may be conceived when
we find that it absorbed all his time and thoughts
104
"HOUSEHOLD WOEDS "
for some twenty years of arduous, never-ceasing
labour and drudgery, pursued from week to week,
with scarcely an hour's relaxation — to wit, the
" conducting " or editing of his two great journals.
" Conducting " was the fitting word, for, like the
manager of a theatre, he had to find and direct suitable
men and characters, study his public, play upon their
feelings, follow and divine their humours, amuse and
divert by the agency of others, and, when that failed
him, by his own. He was all the while following the
currents of the world about him, studying, observing,
contributing to the gaiety of the nation, and, above all,
entering on a new world of life and fancies, wholly
different from the world of fiction in which he had
hitherto lived. And this process was at work for a
score of years.
Now who shall say that this was not a powerful
element — a new-found life — which must have tried,
influenced, the " conductor " a great deal, because it
brought him into contact with so many startling
novelties and excitements. And only fancy it !
Twenty years of it — of that never-flagging, never-
relaxing weekly work. That editing was ever in his
mind, ever before him, from Monday until Saturday ;
and what characters and intellects, of graduated
degrees, did he find ; what strange lessons, pictures
adventures of a new life did he not discover ?
It is therefore no exaggeration to say that anyone
who would calmly take stock of Boz's character and
methods must make his laborious way through the
forty or fifty volumes of these journals, and follow
his Dickens carefully. He will find traces of him on
every page ; as now roused to excitement and anger
when denouncing some abuse ; now vindicating himself
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
from a slander (as it seemed to him) ; now relating
some humorous adventures of his own ; now
lamenting an old comrade ; now describing his boyish
days, his schools, and in short supphnng (unconsciously
often) innumerable sketches and facets of Charles
Dickens under every form and condition. Most
welcome forms and conditions they were.
It seems to me at this moment that no one could
be more suitable than myself for the exhibiting
of this little panorama. I come here as the ver}^
last of his " merry men " and assistants, the one
who for nigh fifteen years out of the twenty of his
" periodical " experiences was ever beside him or in
close confidence. As I turn over the volumes I can
see, and perhaps I alone, how many a tale " thereby
hangs ; " and perhaps I alone can readily supply the
meaning of the various allusions. I, indeed, know the
whole carte de pays — the play itself, the scenery, with
the many characters, and, above all, I can thus set
forth the characters of the engaging manager in a
fasliion that no one has yet attempted. For I had
full opportunities of seeing his brilHance, his patience
and forbearance, his energies, and liis unfailing good-
humour and kindness. In fulfiUing this task I believe
that 1 shall do the greater honour to his most precious
memory.
Dickens had given the world about twelve " capital "
novels during a span of thirty-four years — say one at
three years' interval. This contrasts with Sir Walter's
labours during nearly the same period ; his works
ranged on the library shelf, including, of course, essays
and poems, fill exactly one hundred volumes. Hence
the enormous profits so far exceeding Dickens's ; yet
it would have been impossible for the latter to have
106
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
furnished more in the period ; and had he attempted
to do so, custom would speedily have staled " his
infinite variet}'."
Living as he did in handsome stj^le, and burdened
with many responsibilities, he must have found that
the producing of novels hardly supplied him with a
sufficient income. But this he at last found a way to
supplement by two highly-important sources of supply-
The one was his Public Readings ; the other, his Journal.
The latter became a regular weekly burden, which he
carried on bravely and with never-flagging conscien-
tious labour for over twenty years. His shrewdness in
forecasting the success of his venture was to be more
than justified, and there is no doubt but it brought
him in a large income for many years. But how few
of his readers nowadays think of him as a permanent
journalist, a writer ever on the watch for innumer-
able personal and descriptive sketches, all owing
to that ceaseless fertility of his mind, which when
it had conceived a speculation of humorous fancy
was compelled to set it down at once and give it
permanence. This fertility of his was due to the
feeling of creation in which he found delight. There
are many writers of fiction who find a perfect enter-
tainment in giving to print all their private fancies of
this kind. Dickens's " output " in this way is perfectly
astoimding. Did he feel indignant at a crying abuse, he
sat down and wrote. Did he note an absurdity, he sat
down and wrote sarcastically. Did he feel himself over-
flowing with compassion, he wrote again. Did he take
pleasure in an amusing or grotesque scene which suited
his feelings, he must sketch it. The result is that we
have the man entirely before us, and abundantly before
us. We see him in every light. A biography of him
107
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
could be fashioned from a scanty study of his two
journals, where he bares his heart, and displays without
stint his boyhood adventures, thoughts, feelings.
What drudgery, it will be said. But no, he was
expending himself to please himself ; no one, indeed,
ever wrote so much except Scott. Boz's influence is
spread over forty or fifty volumes of his two journals,
not merely in his own WTitten contributions, but in the
direction, the suggestion, the inspiration of others. In
familiar phrase, he is " all over the place."
Letters, too, formed a regular portion of his work ;
a letter with him was a literary matter artistically
composed. He gave to it of his best, putting in
witty things, happy turns, and pleasant forms. As
one reads now when the writing is faded, one can see
at once that they were composed with care, and that
he had taken pains to please the recipients according
to his favourite maxim — everything worth doing
should be done in the best way. But what a burden
were his letters — a dozen at the least in the day. He
had no notion of a secretary who, as in Irving's case,
could simulate his principal's handwriting and style ;
and thus it was that in truth he might be considered
a born periodical writer. He was ever longing to
express his own feelings, opinions, even recollections
of his childhood, which were his grand storehouse.
He felt that everything of value that he had to say
really came from his own personality, and that there-
fore it must be genuine. And then there was his own
popularity. Every eye was turned towards him,
eagerly waiting what he would think or say on any
subject ; like Dumas, in France, with whom everybody
insisted on being in communication, and who in
consequence had to talk to his admirers every day.
108
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
We in our times have no conception of such a state of
things. This notion of a magazine thus inspired and
directed, not merely edited in the popular phrase,
would be impossible in our day, for the reason that
there is no one either to inspire, or whose " inspiration "
people would care for. Homogeneousness is not asked
for nowadays; the popular magazine is a sort of
hotch-pot.
3Iore than ten years previous to the production of
HouseJiold Words he had all but launched a regular
weekly paper, under the title of "Master Humphrey's
Clock," on exactly the same " lines " as Household
Words. It was only his own superabundant talent that
came in and swept away the whole design.
His proclamation as to the new journal ran as
follows :—
■' blaster Humphrey hopes (and is almost tempted
to believe) that all degrees of readers, young or old,
rich or poor, sad or merry, easy of amusement or
difficult to entertain, may find something agreeable in
the face of his old Clock. That when they have made
its acquaintance, its voice may sound cheerfully in
their ears, and be suggestive of none but pleasant
thoughts. That they may come to have favourite and
familiar associations connected with its name, and to
look for it as for a welcome friend.
" From week to week, then. Master Humphrey will
set his Clock, trusting that while it counts the hours, it
will sometimes cheat them of their heaviness, and that
while it marks the tread of Time, it will scatter a few
slight flowers on the Old Mower's path.
■' Until the specified period arrives, and he can
enter freely upon that confidence with his readers which
he is impatient to maintain, he may only bid them a
short farewell, and look forward to their next meeting."
109
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
As a model for his venture, the old Spectator
was still before him, and he could not resist intro-
ducing " Will Honeycomb " and even " Sir Roger "
himself disguised as " the deaf gentleman " and
" jVIt. Miles." As a man of fine taste and good
reading, the author relished these models, but they
were unfamiliar and too antique for the public
taste. ]Mr. Pickwick with his servant and old Weller
were revived, but the public were not to be attracted ;
and after a few numbers' trial he abruptly abandoned
the whole scheme and developed one of the stories into
a formal novel of the usual length, The Old Curiosity
Shop. After this failure many years were to go by
before the plan was again revived.
His ambitions, however, lay in this direction, and it
was scarcely surprising, therefore, that when success
and opportunity came he should turn from the heavy,
responsible labours of fashioning a novel every two
years or so to the lighter and more vivacious task of
directing an organ of his own, in which he could speak
freely to his readers and exhibit all the facets of his
own unrivalled fancy and imagination, denoinice
folly, and bring laughter while he denounced ? This
was entirely a way of his oAvn. Excellent specimens
are found in his two journals, of which such papers
are the staple. We forget, however, that he had
served a ten years' apprenticeship to this art in a
weekly journal. The Examiner, directed by his admiring
friend, John Forster, so that when he came to
administer his own paper he was already well trained.
There are a number of these papers printed in the
official collections, but there are more which have
not been identified. We may admire the variety
of topics, all congenial to him, and the airy, lively
110
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
touch. He had had nine or ten years' service in
The Morning Chronicle, where he was training his
powers of minute observation and the study of
characters. When, therefore, he set out as a regular
editor no one could have come better prepared. He
was an unrivalled shorthand writer, a diligent student
of character in the police court, an explorer of low
and middle-class life, a vivacious story-teller and light
essayist. He thus came equipped in admirable style, and
brought with him an amazing energy and versatility.
With such varied gifts Dickens had naturally ever
nourished the fancy of having a journal of his own,
which was to be, as he said himself, on the lines of the
old Spectator or of Goldsmith's Bee — a compound of
short stories and essays — a curious, old-fashioned notion.
The field was open enough for such a scheme ; there
was, indeed, only one such paper of any importance
before the public, namely Chambers's Edinburgh
Journal, a very sober, excellent, and instructive organ,
but somewhat lacking in brilliancy and humour. It
had no personal inspiration, but it has always been
most sagaciously edited up to the present hour on
sober, solid lines, ever preserving its safe traditions
and always entertaining and readable.* There was
also for a while Leigh Hunt's London Journal, The
Printing Machine, and other oddly-named things.
It must be said that here was opening a sort of
crisis in Dickens's momentous life: " a record," indeed,
as it may be termed, of sheer strenuous work. No
other instance can be furnished of such intense literary
labour as he was now to inaugurate, one which was to
* I speak with gratitude, for the first encouragement I received during my long
literary career was from Leitch Ritchie, its editor, about 1855, a matter of no
importance to anybody, but which I please myself in recording.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
be maintained at the same high pressure for twenty
years. Twenty years of weekly editing rarely interrupted
or devolved — proof correcting in galley-slips, on the
most lavish scale (most trying to the eyes), all continued
for twenty years. All the while the engendering of an
expected and necessary novel going on, with the
searching for and selection of long serials, and the
devising of plans for increasing circulation. Twenty
years of such editing ! Incredible ! There have been
but few, if any, instances of so long a course of iveekly
editing by a man of genius. But he had A\dthin him
this amazing store of energies, which carried him on.
And yet this was no rough-shod, hard, unsympathising
being, who had not time to be tolerant and gentle.
All the time there might have been yet another
influence working on Dickens which led him to make
new and more vigorous exertions to retain the public
attention. When we think of him, it is always difficult
to exclude the image of Thackeray, "his great rival,"
as it is the fashion — no doubt justly — to call him. It
was certainly a disturbing element that presented
itself about the year 1847, when it had to be taken
seriously. Still, Boz had enjoyed a ten years or so
"run" of triumphant success, and could not complain,
though he might lament. But for twelve or thirteen
years onward he had to share where before he had
monopoly. The new writer, who had come on the
stage two or three years before, was so encouraged by
success and praise that he contended for supremacy,
giving out " that there was not room for both in the
same tree." I^ater on he was to set on foot a rival
magazine.
Comparison has been often made between the
rivals " Boz " and " Titmarsh," but it is a rather
112
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
fallacious test. One element, an immense and
all but important " driving wheel " in Dickens' pro-
duction, was his intense, heartfelt sympathy, and his
overpowering feeling for the poor and suffering. Here
there is an utter blank in Thackeray, in whose writings
these elements are completely absent. In Scott's
writings also I really believe there are but one or two
passages in which he S3'mpathises with the sorrows of
the poor — the loss of the fisherman's son, for instance, in
The Antiquary and the noble grief of the bereaved father.
Thackeray, as we all know, dealt satirically with the
follies of the well-to-do, and he was sympathetic with
the middle class ; but with the abject poor, their
sufferings, feelings, methods, and merits, he was
certainly not familiar.
Dickens, had he lacked the story-teller's gift, and
fallen into the hands of some astute and liberal manipu-
lator, might have found himself permanently bound
to the periodical press, and made a name by short
stories and light sketches or essaj's. Fortunately this
disaster was not to be, though he always seemed to
hanker after the short storj^ thus garnishing his earlier
novels with introduced tales of a not very apropos
kind. I have, indeed, always thought that these were
" remainders " lying in his desk, returned as " un-
suitable," which, on lacking material to complete
his monthly part, he found useful as filling a vacant
place. Yet, strange to say, these " stop-gaps " are
most effective, the best and most dramatic of their
kind. Who would part with the romantic, highly-
coloured tales given in Pickwick (save, perhaps, with
" the Parish Clerk," the only one inferior), which
most of us have read again and again, though we
know them by heart ? Who would part with the
113
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
ghostly mail coach story told by the Bagman so
appropriately ? '^Jl doubt if^anything of Washington
living's or of Scott's comes near it, though it is often
said that the latter's Wandering Willie was a matchless
story of its kind. In the Sketches are found many
personal and autobiographical touches and memories ;
he is constantly illustrating his various statements by
recollections. I believe the truth was that he ever
found his imagination stimulated by such memories.
lU
CHAPTER VIII
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS " FOUNDED, 1850
Dickens had now been some fifteen or sixteen years
steadily furnishing his novels at almost regular intervals
before his plans for the new enterprise began to mature.
No doubt he was greatly tempted — perhaps most
tempted — by the prospect of certain and enormous
"profits beyond the dreams of avarice," profits that had
become necessary to him from his more expensive
scale of living and an increasing family. Accordingly,
in the year 1849 he had begun seriously to lay out
his plan, which he did in a thorough, business-like
fashion.
In September, 1850, we find him writing to his
" trusty " friend and counsellor, Forster, that he really
thought the conception was at last taking shape. In
the following month he could announce that his notion
was " a weekly journal, price either three-halfpence or
twopence ; matter in part original and in part selected,
and always having, if possible, a little good poetry."
He then unfolded the details of his rather curious
scheme. " Upon the selected matter I have particular
notions. One is that it should always be a subject.
For example, a history of Piracy, in connection with
which there is a vast deal of extraordinary and romantic
and almost unlcnown matter, a history of Kniglit-
Errantry, etc, etc. The original matter to be essays,
reviews, letters, theatrical criticisms, etc., etc., as
115
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
amusing as possible, but all distinctly and boldly
going to what in one's view ought to be the spirit of
the people and the time. Now, to bind all this together
and to get a character established, as it were, which
any of the ^^Tite^s may maintain without difficulty, I
want to suppose a certain shadow, which may go into
any place by sunlight, moonlight, starlight, firelight,
candlelight, and be in all homes and all nooks and
corners, and be supposed to be cognisant of everything
and go everywhere without the least difficulty — which
may be in the theatre, in the palace, the House of Com-
mons, the prisons, the unions, the churches, the railroad,
in the sea, abroad and at home. I don't think it would
do to call the paper The Shadow, but I want something
tacked to that title to express the notion of its being
a cheerful, useful, and ahvays welcome shadow. I
want to open the first number with this Shadow's
account of himself and his famil}^ ; I want to have all
the correspondence addressed to him. I want him to
issue his warnings from time to time that he is going to
fall on such and such a subject, or to explain such and
such a piece of humbug, or that he may be expected
shortly in such and such a place. I want him to loom
as a fanciful thing all over London, and to get up a
general notion of " What will the Shadow say about
this, I wonder ? Is the Shadow here ? " and so
iorth. Do you understand ? . . . I have an enor-
mous difficulty in expressing what I mean in this stage
of the business ; but I think the importance of the
idea is that, once stated on paper, there is no difficulty
in keeping it up. I want to express in the title and
in the grasp of the idea to express also that it is the
thing at everybody's elbow and in everybody's foot-
steps— at a v.'indow, by the fire, in the street, in
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
the house, from infancy to old age, everybody's in-
separable companion. Now, do you make anything
of this ? Which I let off as if I were a bladder, full
of it, and you had punctured me. I have not breathed
the idea to anyone, but I have a lively hope that it
is an idea, and that out of it the whole scheme may
be hammered."
It is easy to understand the enthusiasm which
dictated this animated sketch, which is in itself an
effective bit of writing ; it seems, however, a little
fanciful. Not less curious is it to note how he still
hankered after the old " Humphrey's Clock " pattern,
this mysterious " Shadow " taking the place of the un-
practical clock case. Indeed, all through his life he
had this strange, almost romantic, fancy for a poetical
sort of " framework," destined to enclose and colour a
collection of short stories. The short story had ever
for him a charm, because it embodied some dramatic
idea which could be struck off at once. Even in
Pickwick and Nicholas NicMehij he could not resist
introducing this shape of story, and it must be said
they are artfully and effectively introduced, and the
situation which introduces them is always well coloured
and dramatic*
Still it was a wholly different thing to think of
sustaining a regular weekly journal dealing with
miscellaneous topics by such means as " Shadows "
and " clock cases." It was, in truth, but a cumbrous
machinery. It was too artificial to have effect beyond
a week or two, and from its character would have been
a permanent " drag " on the undertaking. The viewing
of all things grave and gay, practical as well as poetical,
• Thus are we pleased when Mr. Pickwick, sitting up at night in Bath, findB a
itory in an old drawer.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
through this eternal " Shadow " would have become
intolerable. It would have been felt at once that the
" Shadow " was nothing but Dickens himself. The
" Shadow " might have served its purpose as a
Christmas legend of the " Carol " pattern, but would
have spent itself in the effort ; nor would the public
much care, as the author so fondly anticipated, what
the " Shadow would say or do next." Still, we must
sympathise with the enthusiasm and ardour which
engendered this notion.
The practical good sense of his friend and counsellor
saved him from what would have been a perfect ship-
WTeck, and brought him to a more sober view. " I
could not," says Forster, " make anything out of it
that had a quite feasible look," a sensible speech that
really embodied every objection. He saw that such
a fanciful basis could not support the practical scheme
of furnishing valuable information and instruction,
even in the most agreeable forms. Still the sanguine
author clung to his " ShadoAV." " I don't lay much
stress on your grave doubts, but inore anon.'''' He soon
became shaken in his faith, and after a business-like
conversation with his friend, no more was heard of
the " Shadow."
It would be an interesting speculation to consider
or discuss whether this new editorial department and
his assiduous, unbroken devotion to it during some
twenty years was of advantage or injury to his great
gifts. He certainly discovered a new promised land,
where he could range unchecked, do what he willed,
give free scope to his imagination and powers, and
above all teach. There can be no doubt, on the other
hand, that injury was done, owing to the profuse
dissipation of his powers, and to the compelling
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
influence of the journalistic forms and devices. From
these again he had to revert of a sudden to his true
metier— the story — which must have reflected the long
and uninterrupted influence of the hurried weekly-
efforts. His style and powers of character drawing
must have been impaired, and could not be recalled at
will for a particular occasion. The Household Words
pattern was of an ephemeral cast, with a deceptive,
rather p\Totechnical style utterly opposed to the con-
centrated and deliberated character of the monthly
part of his story. And then there was the weary,
never-ending weekly drudgery of editing, proof correct-
ing, reading and selecting, all to be done by himself
in person, which must have enfeebled his buoyant
personality and obstreperous, exciting course, when he
set himself to the -writing of a story.
The next important matter was the choice of a
working editor or sub-editor. He himself was to be
the " conductor," rather than editor, the practical
editor selecting desirable papers and dealing with the
contributors. His friend Forster here suggested to
him an admirable assistant with whom he had worked
on the Daily News.
This William Henry Wills, the indefatigable sub-
editor, was something of " a character," a little prag-
matical, taking his office au grand serieux, rather au plus
grand, something of a cockney, and with a persuasion
that he had a fund of humour. His chief, I think, enjoyed
his little ways immensely, and was fond of quoting hia
odd forms and expressions with a sly twinkle, such
as his imagined nautical tastes, with allusions to an
imagined nautical di-ama. The Larboard Fin. Forster
disliked him, and he had no love for Forster. Once
when both met at his rooms Boz, as I have already
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
said, had to request his lieutenant to retire in the
interests of peace. Yet he was a thorough good
fellow — true, faithful, staunch to his friends, and doing
kind or good-natured things. He would expend him-
self in long and quite unprofessional letters, showing
that he ever delighted in confidentially expressing his
thoughts and feelings.*
No one could have suited Dickens better, or was
more likely to be useful to him. He had a complete
faith in his chief, and carried out his wishes in the most
scrupulous fashion, without debate and according to
his intentions. Having known him for over twenty
years, I can testify to his steady friendship, which knew
neither change nor caprice.! I shall have more to tell
by and by of this worthy man.
The energetic Dickens threw his whole soul into
the preparations for the work. He started with some
three numbers " made up " in advance, and could note
such minute points as the fashion of printing the
heading, Household Words found in the title. He was
besides difficult to please in such matters.
Then came the great question of a name. He first
thought of "The Robin," next of "Charles Dickens: a
* He had written in the very first number of Punch, and showed some skill in
ridicule. When the Daily A'e«.'.» was being started ho was lucky enough to be brought
into connection with Dickens, then on the paper ; but Wills presently drifted away
to Kdinburgh to edit CImmbers's Journal, an excellent training school, which seemed
to have equipped liini expressly for Dickens's purposes. He was appointed hii
assistant editor in 1849. This post he held for close on twenty years.
It wan amusing to hear him retail his early adventures in Kdinburgh. How on
his lii-st arrival at a jiarty he, an unfriended youth, ventured on a jest relative to
a stout lady who had made a fortune out of breeding cattle — " All llesh is grass," etc.
There was a dead silence ; his too literal hearers looked at him distru-stfuUy, when
an elderly, good-natured listener, pitying his case, interposed : " Well, I know what
the young mon means. Ye see the animal feeds on the grass, and the grass is then
transmuted into the animal juices and flesh-forming particles, and so ye see the
grass is finally transformed into fleah." Ho was thus acquitted.
t Mr- Lehmann, M.P., has given a very full and graphic portrait of this capable
editor and his connection with Dickens in his book. " Charles Dickens as Kditor."
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
weekly journal designed for the instruction and enter-
tainment of all classes of readers, conducted by himself."
This would scarcely have done. Then of "The House
hold Voice," " The Household Guest," " The Comrade,"
"The Microscope," '"The Highway of Life," "The
Lever," "The Holly Tree," "Everything;" but "I
rather think," he said, " 'The Voice ' it is, that is 'The
Household Voice;'" this he thought "pretty," and
so it is.*
So, by a happy inspiration the long familiar House-
hold Words was chosen — a most adroit, expressive,
sympathetic, Dickensian title, that was to travel
everywhere in happy association with its author. f
In titles generally Dickens always displayed a rare
tact and versatility, not merely in the case of his
books, but in that of casual and ejihemeral papers.
They were always quaintly suggestive, often humorous,
an exact and inviting epitome of what the paper
contained. It is only those who have tried to
devise suitable titles and note their own failures who
can appreciate the difficulties of the task. He could
not start his venture or, indeed, do anything practical
* Among his papers was found a whole sheaf of titles, as to one of which he had
half made up his raind —
" The Forqe.
A weekly Journal conducted
by Charles Dickens,
with the motto —
" Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought ;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought."
Longfellow.
Here was also " The He.vrth," " The Crucible," " The Anvil," " Charles Dickens's
Own." " Seasonable Leaves," " Evergreen Leaves," " Home," " Home Music,"
" Change," " Time and Tide," " Twopence," " English Bells," " Weekly Bells,"
" The Rocket," " Good Humour."
f Once at Aix-la-Chapelle the German attendant brought me a little book
which he thought would please me, " Owzelverd von Dickens."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
until he had arranged this weighty matter. " My
determination," he wTote, '" to settle the knotty point
of the title arises out of my knowledge that I shall
never be able to do anything for the work until it has
a fixed name."
Beneath the title of the magazine was set out a
very suitable and (apparently) well-known line from
Shakespeare, which most happily described the character
of the periodical — ■
" Familiar in their mouths as Household Words."
Nothing could be more entirely familiar to the
community — the author himself a Household Word,
his \\Titings Household Words, and the paper to become
as " familiar." How happy and how apropos ! But
strange to say the text of the line does not follow
that of the bard, who writes —
" Familiar in his mouth as Household Words."
Henry F, Act iv, Sc. iii.
which would hardly fit. We cannot tell whether this
was a mistake (a very natural one), or whether Boz
knew it, and did not care about the matter, shaping
the hne to suit his purpose. I do not think the
alteration has been pointed out hitherto.
The " Articles of Agreement " were dated March
28th, 1850. It was stated that the parties concerned
had " projected and were about to establish a new
weekly periodical, under the name of Household Words,
in consideration of the mutual trust and confidence they
repose in each other." Dickens was to be editor with
control over the literary department, the rates of pay-
ment, and orders for payment ; he was to receive £500
as remuneration for his services as editor and for any
literary articles he may contribute, such sum to be paid
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
weekly, monthly or otherwise as he may choose : in
addition to aii}'^ profits, to which as a proprietor he may
be entitled. Bradbury and Evans were to be printers
and publishers and general managers, and also to direct
" the commercial department " ; all contracts were to
be entered into by them on behalf of the co-partnership ;
all the books to be provided at their expense, and to be
open for the inspection of their partners at the office.
They -were to furnish all the capital necessary for current
expenses, which was to be repaid them out of the
yearly amount. In consideration of an eighth share,
Forster was to furnish articles without remunera-
tion. Wills was not to withdi-aw except on giving
twelve months' notice. The editor had, however,
power to dismiss him, on six months' notice, or by
payment of an equivalent salary. Each proprietor
was to indemnify the others from all private debts,
actions, etc. ; neither of the parties was to sell or assign
his share or interest without first offering it to his
partners. It was to be valued by referees, and in case
of their disagreeing by an umpire. If such arrange-
ment were rejected, it might then be sold to an approved
person. Meetings of the proprietors were to be held
twice in the year, two to make a quorum. Accounts
were to be furnished at each half-yearly meeting. In
case of the decease of a proprietor, his executors were to
take his place. In case of the expiration of Household
Words, either by agreement or otherwise, all the stock,
chattels, etc., were to be sold by auction, unless it were
otherwise agreed. In case of any difference or dispute
between the Proprietors, touching the construction of these
presents, or any covenant, clause, etc., or anything whatso-
ever in any wise concerning the said publication, the same
shall, on application in loriting, be submitted to the
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
arbitration of two persons nominated by each of the
parties within twenty-one days of the notice given. On a
refusal, the other party may name an arbitrator." On
these important clauses a good deal was to turn, when
some years later a dispute arose between the partners.
These last clauses I have itaUcised, as future litigation
was destined to arise on this construction.
Forster had serious work of his own to attend to in
the direction of his newspaper The Examiner. We are
not surprised, therefore, to find him later on with-
drawing from the undertaking. His eighth share was
valued at £1,100, and it was to be offered to him at that
price, which sum he was to be called on as a matter of
form to pay. Failing this payment it was to be considered
forfeited, and was to be disposed of as the proprietors
should think fit. It would seem from this that he had
not actually put any money into the concern, but had
given his name with a promise of contributions. Of
this one-eighth share one half was allotted to Wills.*
The capital of the concern appears to have been not
more than £9,000.
It was also intended as a sort of attraction for the
new journal that there should be a review of the events
of the month under the title of " The Household
Narrative of Current Events." There was nothing very
original in this, as something of the kind had been
done in the New Monthly, and in the " Chronicle " of
The Annual Register. This department was allotted
to Forster, and he furnished a substantial portion.
* I find a memorandum in Dickona's hundwriting to the effect that one-half
of the share should bo given to Wills, " so long as ho shall remain subeditor, and
Dickens shall live. Should Wills leave or die, Dickens was to have the power of
bestowing it on another subeditor, eierciaing his own discretion, as he may think
most advantageous to the interest of Household Words, and the efficiency of his own
connection with it." On the death of Dickens, the share was to bo the property of
his successors in the proprietorship, and of the other proprietors.
124
dr
'• HOUSEHOLD WOKUS^' OFFICE,
Nil. lii \Vki.i.i.si:tox Stkekt, Stuand.
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
But this soon attracted the attention of the Stamp
Office authorities, who insisted on classing tlie journal
as a newspaper, and that it should bear a stamp. I can
almost hear my old friend vehemently branding this
unreasonable claim as " The vilest and most
in — tol — erable oppression ! " Dickens resisted with
spirit ; the matter was brought before the courts, and
finally — but not for some years — decided in his favour.
But by and by he found it convenient to discontinue it.
I don't think it was very much cared for. Moreover,
there was something incongruous in yoking a Chronicle
of that kind to a work of fancy. Everyone, too, would
remember the events of the past months, they were too
fresh to be read over again.
The old original Household Words office was a
graceful, highly-inviting, dainty little structure. It
really seemed somewhat in keeping with the brilliant
owner, and even with his genial, sympathetic character.
It stood half-way up Wellington Street (north in those
days). Strand, about half a dozen houses from York
Street on the right-hand side as you looked from the
Strand, and was number 16. It was but a miniature
sort of building, but sufficed. Exceedingly pretty was
the bowed front, the bow reaching up for one story, and
a ground floor window, each giving a flood of light,
quite necessary for literary work. It seemed more a
residence suited, as the auctioneer would say, for " a
bachelor of position." As you looked from the other
side of the street you could see well through the windows
that the " drawing-room floor," where the master sat,
was handsomely furnished.
This little office had seen varied fortunes before
it reached its newer dignity. Charles Kent used to
recall how in his adventurous days he, with an ally,
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
E. L. Blanchard, chose it as their office, where they set
up an odd journal, The Astrologer, intended to compete
with the then popular Zadkiel. Like the seer, they
" cast nativities" and foretold events. The Astrologer,
of course, passed away after a short career, and then
resigned its place to Household Words.
No. 16, Wellington Street has suffered many
changes since Boz's occupation. This first office was
not very far from the bottom of the street, but the
whole block that faced the Lyceum Theatre has been
all swept away, the Morning Post absorbing the rest.
Catherine Street too has disappeared altogether, also
devoured by the Morning Post. Gone also is the old
Gaiety Theatre which touched Boz's office and was built
by one of the wTiters in the little paper, the enter-
prising " Jack " Hollingshead, who was clever in all
things and successful in most. The old All The Year
Round office at the corner of York Street has now
come into the possession of " a sundries man," who
offers every form of Covent Garden produce. The
name would have tickled Boz.
Household Words, though issued weekly, was
virtually a monthly magazine, like Chambers's Journal,
for most subscribers found it more convenient to have
the weekly parts thus put together, and they had
beside more substantial reading. The popular
shilling magazine was then undreamed of. There was
the veteran Blackicood at half a crown — rather leaden
reading — while for some others, such as Colhurn's,
three and sixpence was charged, a monstrous price for
so ephemeral a thing. Besides the chronicle of events,
there was issued for a time an Almanacl; but this, like
the chronicle, was soon discontinued.
It is only when contrasting Household Words with
126
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
its penny or three-halfpenny contemporaries that we
see at once Avhat a new and original thing it was.
Chambers's always opened (as it still does) Avith a
pleasantl}'- discursive essay, critical or reflective,
followed by short tales, descriptions of places and
processes, or what might be called " Information."
The Penny Magazine of the Society for the Diffusion
of Useful Knowledge (" confusion of useful knowledge,"
as some cynics had it) was entirely utilitarian ; the
style was plain and practical, not to say bald, and it
was well illustrated. It was like a weekly newspaper.
In all the " monthlies " tales long or short, serials, etc.,
and travelling sketches were the staple. We may
therefore imagine, when the most brilliant man of
letters came along and presented his new miscellany,
full of variety and his own personality, with all his own
thoughts, opinions, feelings, with, also, his inspiration
of others, with its new surprising elements, the general
jubilee with which it Avas welcomed.
CHAPTER IX
FIEST ISSUE OF " HOUSEHOLD WORDS."
EARLY NUMBERS.
On Saturday, :March 30th, 1850, the first number of
the Household Words was issued. The Editor intro-
duced it to his readers by a very winning and effective
address, which he called
"A PRELIMINARY WORD.
" The name that we have chosen for this publication
expresses, generally, the desire we have at heart in
originating it.
"We aspire to live in the Household affections,
and to be numbered among the Household thoughts,
of our readers. AVe hope to be the comrade and
friend of many thousands of people, of both sexes, and
of all ages and conditions, on whose faces we may
never look. We seek to bring into iiunnnerable homes,
from the stirring world around us, the knowledge of
many social wonders, good and evil, that are not
calculated to render ar\y of us less ardently persevering
in ourselves, less tolerant of one another, less faithful
in the progress of mankind, less thankful for the
privilege of living in the summer-dawn of time.
" No mere utilitarian spirit, no iron binding of the
mind to grim realities, will give a harsh tone to our
Household Words. In the bosoms of the j^oung and
old, of the well-to-do and of the poor, we would
tenderly cherish that light of Fancy which is inherent
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
in the human breast ; which, according to its nurture,
burns with an inspiring flame, or sinks into a sullen
glare, but which (or woe betide that day!) can never
be extinguished. To show to all, that in all familiar
things, even in those which are repellent on the surface,
there is Romance enough, if we will find it out ; to
teach the hardest workers at this whirling wheel of
toil, that their lot is not necessarily a moody, brutal
fact, excluded from the sympathies and graces of
imagination ; to bring the greater and the lesser in
degree, together, upon that wide field, and mutually
dispose them to a better acquaintance and a kinder
understanding, is one main object of our Household
Words.
■' The mightier inventions of this age are not to
our thinking all material, but have a kind of souls in
their stupendous bodies which may find expression in
Household Words. The traveller whom we accompany
on his railroad or his steamboat journey, may gain, we
hope, some compensation for incidents which these later
generations have outlived, in new associations with
the Power that bears him onward ; with the habitations
and the ways of life of crowds of his fellow-creatiires
among whom he passes like the wind ; even with the
towering chimneys he may see, spirting out fire and
smoke upon the prospect. The swart giants, slaves of
the Lamp of Knowledge, have their thousand and one
tales, no less than the genii of the East ; and these, in
all their wild, grotesque, and fanciful aspects, in ail
their many phases of endurance, in all their many
moving lessons of compassion and consideration, we
design to tell.
" Our Household Words will not be echoes of the
present time alone, but of the past too. Neither will
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
they treat of the hopes, the enterprises, triumphs,
joys, and sorrows, of this country only, but, in some
degree, of those of every nation upon earth. For nothing
can be a source of real interest in one of them, without
concerning all the rest.
" We have considered what an ambition it is to be
admitted into many homes with affection and confi-
dence ; to be regarded as a friend by children and old
people ; to be thought of in affliction and in happiness ;
to people the sick room with airy shapes ' that give
delight and hurt not,' and to be associated with the
harmless laughter and the gentle tears of many hearths.
We know the great responsibility of such a privilege ;
its vast reward ; the pictures that it conjures up, in
hours of solitary laboiu-, of a multitude moved by one
sympathy ; the solemn hopes which it awakens in the
labourer's breast, that he may be free from self-
reproach in looking back at last upon his work, and
that his name may be remembered in his race in time
to come, and borne by the dear objects of his love with
pride. The hand that A\Tites these faltering lines,
happily associated with some Household Words before
to-day, has known enough of such experiences to enter
in an earnest spirit upon this new task, and with an
awakened sense of all that it involves.
" Some tillers of the field into which we now come,
have been before us, and some are here whose high
usefulness we readily acknowledge, and whose company
it is an honour to join. But, there are others here —
Bastards of the Mountain, draggled fringe on the Red
Cap, Panders to the basest passions of the lowest
natures — whose existence is a national reproach. And
these, we should consider it our highest service to
displace.
130
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
" Thus, we begin our Ccareer ! The adventurer in
the old fairy story, climbing towards the summit of a
steep eminence on which the object of his search was
stationed, was surrounded by a roar of voices, crying
to him, from the stones in the way, to turn back. All
the voices loe hear, cry ' Go on ! ' The stones that
call to us have sermons in them, as the trees have
tongues, as there are books in the running brooks,
as there is good in everything ! They, and the Time,
cry out to us ' Go on ! ' With a fresh heart, a light step,
and a hopeful courage, we begin the journey. The road
is not so rough that it need daunt our feet : the way is
not so steep that we need stop for breath, and, looking
faintly down, be stricken motionless. ' Go on,' is all we
hear, ' Go on ! ' In a glow already, with the air from
yonder height upon us, and the inspiriting voices joining
in this acclamation, Ave echo back the cry, and go on
cheerily."
Now it would be difficult to read this graceful,
stirring appeal without feeling once more the extra-
ordinary personality of the writer. Into this
" prospectus," as moderns would call it, he seemed to
put his whole heart — the principles which he had been
urging in his wTiting, his longings to bring light and
hope into the cheerless hfe of the poor and drudging ;
for his faith was that if money and relief could not be
given, something at least that would take their
thoughts off their situation would be of service. This
is, indeed, not one of the usual addresses before the
curtain, issued by some " perky " editor — insincere,
full of pledges and promises, and like a shop window,
offering earnest of wares not yet within, but to be
produced later. There are many striking touches and
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
some tender notes in it. Witness that moving passage :
" The pictures that it conjures up in hours of soUtary
labour, of a multitude moved by one sympathy ; the
solemn hopes which it awakens in the labourer's breast,
that he may be free from self-reproach in looking back
at last upon his work, and that his name may be
remembered in his race in time to come, and borne
by the dear objects of his love and pride. The hand
that writes these faltering lines, happily associated
with some Household Words before to-day, has known
enough of such experiences to enter in an earnest spirit
upon this new task." It is this personal tone that
always endeared Dickens to his readers. At the same
time there is a sort of heroic strain, as though our
Editor took up the burden with solemn seriousness
and with a sense of deep responsibility. There is also
a good deal that seems rhapsodical ; and certainly
passages that are not altogether intelligible. This
might amuse did we not feel that he was infinitely and
thoroughly in grim earnest. His heart was to be in
the business.
In the opening numbers the piece de resistance was
the chapters of a short serial story, " Lizzie Leigh,"
written by Mrs. Gaskell, who then and for many years to
come enjoyed great popularity as a story-teller. There
were stirring dramatic tales, descriptions of foreign
places, humorous travels and comments, national cha-
racteristics, with occasional carefully-selected poetry.
Here were some of the earlier topics : " Zoological
Sessions," " The Subscription List," " Atlantic Waves,"
" The Irish Stationers," " German Adventure," " Mr.
van Ploos on Penmanship," " Gossip about Brussels,"
" The Good Hippopotamus," " The Irish use of the
Globe," " Adventures of a Translation," " Spider's
132
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
Silk," " A German Picture of the Scotch," " A Poor
Man's Tale of a Patent," etc. Here are more taken at
random : " Nobody, Somebody and Everybody,"
" My Spinster's Proposals for a National Jest Book,"
" A Plated Article " (that is on Sheffield wares),
" China, with a flaw in it," " Justice to the Hyaena,"
" Received a Blank Cheque," " More work for the
Ladies," " Dead Reckoning at the Morgue," " Idiots
Again," " Our Coachman," " The Art of Boreing,"
" Missing a Married Gentleman," " A Canny Book,"
" Humbugs."
It is difficult not to feel a sort of exhilaration or to
fail to catch some of his good spirits as we turn over
the pages of an early volume. Bright news and liveli-
ness meet us at every turn. It lives, and the Editor
lives in it between its covers. The titles of the papers
and the subjects these titles introduce are suggestive
and inviting, nor are they mere " dead apples," arti-
ficially fashioned and disappointing. They are really
the pith of the article itself, happily summarised by a
witty man. They betokened the tone, the view taken
of everything. The subjects, too, were singularly
tempting and inviting. Pleasant was the parody of
the Arabian Nights, with its characters Mistaspeeka
and Hansardadade, while " Transported for Life " was
an unaffected personal account, of absorbing interest,
related by one who had suffered that penalty. Every
short story introduced was carefully planned for effect,
so as to contain something novel or " sensational," and
over all was cast a tone of elegant pleasantry. The
personaUty of the Editor was everywhere : it was
Dickens himself either finding or suggesting the
subjects, or touching them, garnishing them here and
there with lively strokes, suggesting alteration, or
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
adding a lively, expressive title, and finally, Avith great
art, aiTanging and selecting the papers, so as to produce
the best effect on the reader. No editor of our time
attempts this sort of thing, perhaps because no editor
has a personaUty as Dickens had.
To Forster he would in his buoyant, enthusiastic
fashion give note of his vast and various projects for
Household Words. One was a series of occasional
papers, to be called " The Member for Nowhere,"
setting out the views, votes and speeches of such a
person. " He is a member of the Government, of
course. The moment the}-^ found such a member in
the House they felt that he must be dragged by force,
if necessary, into the Cabinet." This scheme he laid
aside reluctantly ; but the idea was not lost. We were
to have it later in the Circumlocution Office. He also
spoke of a bright notion, a fine little bit of satire, " The
Thousand and One Humbugs," Avith new versions of
the best-known stories. Forster thinks that this
notion was also given up, but one paper of the series
at least appeared. The Editor himself supplied essaj'^s
and sketches with frequency, particularly on subjects
connected with abuses of government or administration,
where he felt the grievance acutely, these being easily
recognisable from their sarcastic and vehement tone.
It is curious to note one of the methods of this
interesting man for stimulating his invention. " I took
my threatened walk last night," he wrote to Wills in
April, 1851, " but it yielded little but generalities.
However, I have thought of something for to-night
that I think will make a splendid paper. This is it,
' A Night in a Station-house.' "
The success of the venture was extraordinary.
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
nearly one hundred thousand copies of the first
number having been sold. Nor was this surprising.
For here there was everything to attract — a
pleasing, interesting journal, admirably edited, varied,
new in style and treatment. Above all, there was
the magician, the gifted Editor himself, and his
influence revealed everywhere. There was the friendly
greeting of his name at the top of every page,
'■ Conducted by Charles Dickens."* The truth is, it is
difficult at the present moment to realise how great his
supreme position was then. Every eye was turned to
him ! He was practically alone, not above everyone
else by his head and shoulders merely, but by full
figure. Nowadays, the rule is divided among a great
many. But Dickens in letters had somewhat the
position of Gladstone in politics. He was a force, a
power, a romantic figure. Anything by Dickens,
a letter, a paper, an opinion, was sought out, talked
over and devoured, and people were eager to know what
he thought on any and every subject. Household Words,
a mere twopenny journal, was to be found on every
table and in every room, in the palace and the cottage.
It may be doubted if people would now pay twopence
a week to learn the opinions of our best novelist on
any subject whatever. f
There was an immense " retail business," the
magazine being issued each week, and each month in
parts. We may, I think, assume that Bradbury and
Evans undertook the accounts and similar details, and
♦ There was a pleasant jest afloat in reference to the Editor's profession tha
the journal was to be quite anonymous in its character. " So I see," said a wit,
" for I see Charles Dickens's name on every page."
'■ The first number contained these papers : — " A Preliminary Word," by
Dickens and Wills ; " Abraham, the Fire-worshipper," by Leigh Hunt ; " Amuse-
ments for the People," Dickens ; " Clairon," George Hogarth ; " Verses," by
Allingham; and a paper by Mrs. Chisholm, " The Philanthropist."
135
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
also the general distribution. Dickens had, of course,
to make himself familiar with all the publishing details,
and was not the man to shirk any trouble.
By July he was encouraged to WTite to his friend
White: "Household Words goes on thoroughly well. It
is expensive no doubt, and demands a large circulation :
but it is taking a great and steady stand, and I have no
doubt already yields a good round profit." This was
cheering ; but a sort of detachment will be noted, as
though the responsibility was on others, contrasting
with his later serious interest in the venture.
His nicetj^ and delicacy of touch can be shown by
one instance. He was concerned about the mere look
or sound of the various titles of articles, such as
" The Amusements of the People," which he altered
from that of " Amusements of the People." For he
said drolly enough that he " would as soon have his
hair cut off as have an intolerable Scotch shortness
put into my titles by an elision of little words." He
always displayed a wonderful tact or flaire in such
trifles. But " I really can't promise to be comic," he
said, as his friend wished him to be. " I will shake my
head a little, and see if I can shake a more comic
substitute out of it. As to two comic articles, or two
of any sort of articles out of me, that 's the intensest
extreme of no-goism." To his assistant and friend
Wills he always wTote in cheerfullest strain, expending
on him his quips and good things. IMany would have
been economical and have confined themselves strictly
to business. But the genial Dickens never made such
distinctions, and really WTote with the same sparkle
and effort to his own family and his dependents, just
as though he were addressing ofBcial friends.
There was quite a special form of article, of which
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
legions were to follow, supplying skilful and even
dramatic accounts of the various social operations going
on around us — manufactures, organisations. These,
like Mr. Stiggins's " moral pocket - handkerchiefs,"
" blended instruction with amusement." First-hand
and special information was almost always secured, and
naturally, owing to Boz's high position and popularity.
Thus he would deal with " The Amusements of the
People," on which he commented in his own charac-
teristic manner, and could be satirical and severe,
didactic and amusing. This again was a special feature,
and was present hereafter whenever the occasion called.
Here was teacher, reformer and entertainer, and the
pleasant host of his public. We can thus even catch
through the many volumes the 'personal note. A story
of Clairon, the French actress, was also another type,
a favourite one, something curious from old English
or French literature served with a sauce piquante (this
specimen was by his father-in-law). Finally came a
paper of " Emigrants' Letters," a subject after his OAvn
heart and a supremely interesting one. Such mis-
cellanies were often sent to him.
Dickens's trul}^ affectionate and even romantic
interest in the tender recollections of his childhood and
famih' is shown in his paper "A Child's Dream of a Star,"
which appeared in the second number of the Journal
in 1850. He clearly wished to emphasise this feeling by
making the account as prominent as possible, and to show
that it was all-important to him. It is a most graphic
reminiscence, and written A\dth his most delicate touch.
In a truly delightful and even pathetic fashion he v/rote
to Forster enclosing the manuscript. This was in I\Iarch
of the year. Only the first number of his Journal was
ready, and he had noted a lack of " tenderness " in the
137
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
second. " Coming doAAii in the railway the other night
(always a wonderfully suggestive place to me when
I am alone) I was looking at the stars. I was revolving
a little idea about them, and then put the two ideas
together." The child was his sister Fanny, who had
died but a couple of years before, and with whom he
used to wander into the Chatham Churchyard of nights
and look at the stars. There is something very touching
in this, which shows what deep wells of sympathy and
affection were in his tender nature, and how precious to
him were these rare family recollections and dreams.
It is clear that even by this time we hardly knew the
mysteries of his highly - sensitive character, and how
earnest he was in treasuring up in some form these rare
and inestimable thoughts. This and many more such
recorded impressions must be taken account of in
dealing with his life and feelings.
The little paper shows an almost poignant sense of
grief and desolation, and we may look in vain in other
more official accounts of his life for anything like this
proof of his sensibility and affectionate disposition.
As we have seen, he had lost this darling sister a short
time before, and he turned back to the old childish days
as a relief. He indulged the hope of rejoining her, and
in man}' pathetic fancies imagines her asking, as others
of the famil}' are taken aAvay and arrive, " Is it my
brother ? " The mother, sister and others die off, but
the child is shown still asking for the brother.
The writer had no scruple in thus uncloaking his
tender feelings, especially as he knew all would take
it as a mere imagination, and it should be noted that
all through in this secret crypt of his he found pleasure
in putting on record little incidents of his own life,
family sufferings and feelings, and thus giving them
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a permanence. These old thoughts and memories were
liis one cherished store and treasure to be fostered
carefull}^ and constantly recorded.
It was wonderful how Boz, who had not given much
attention to editorship, should have been not merely
successful, but strikingly so, in this attempt. He
seemed to the manner born. Nothing can be more
admirable than the balance of the papers in each
number, and the happy way in which they were con-
trasted. This must have entailed excessive labour
and the most painstaking exertions. When I myself
came to have a large share in the work I saw by the
state of the proofs that were sent what extraordinary
labour was involved. Often and often the long slips
became a network of blue strokes and interpolations
and deletions. As he introduced a contribution of his
oMTi at least once a month, one may wonder what
became of these innumerable original manuscripts, which
must have been counted by hundreds. I am afraid
they were torn up and carelessly destroyed. His sub-
editor, on my asking him this question, told me that
they were invariably collected in the printing office,
sealed up, and returned to him. No doubt he required
this to prevent their being sold or getting into other
hands, and when he got them back he probably tore
them up. They certainly do not exist. Little did
he think what a treasure he was destroying, or
that nowadays they would bring literally enormous
sums.
Then came the first of his delightful accounts of
manufactures, explained in pleasant, almost humorous
terms — a system of his own.
All through these early numbers we recognise his
touch, with his favourite earnest pleading in " Our
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
School," " At Home and Abroad," " A Coroner's
Inquest," " Music in Humble Life," etc. (evidently to
" give a lift to his old friend HuUah "), " A Popular
Delusion " {i.e. about Billinsgate, perhaps), " My
Wonderful Adventures in Skitzland," " New Lamps
for Old Ones," " Royal Rotten Row Commission "
(a pleasant bit of satire on official commissions, certainly
his, being after the fashion of the Circumlocution Office).
" The Old Lady in Threadneedle Street " was, I beheve,
the first of my old friend, John HoUingshead's financial
contributions, and excellent they were.
On July 13th we find the first of the detective
papers, " The Modern Science of Thief taking," followed
by the " Detective Police Party at the Office," and
others. These latter he reprinted in the collected
pieces, but, oddly enough, he suppressed the first,
though it is as good as the others. This was founded
on quite a new system, now, however, grown into
fashion, that of " interviewing," Avith a difference,
however; for he would work up the interview with
lively and comic touches all his own.
The Editor's minute and painstaking supervision
is shown by a significant comment, \vritten in 1851 :—
" I have been looking over the back numbers.
Wherever they fail it is in wanting elegance of fancy.
They lapse too much into a dreary, arithmetical,
Cocker-cum-Walkingame dustyness that is powerfully
depressing." This shows how difficult he found it to
maintain the fanciful, imaginative standard he had
set up originally ; but the forms and pressure of his
time seemed too strong for him, as was soon to be
shown by the contrast between the old and la-ter
treatment. By and by the descent into wholly
" practical " methods was to be reached.
140
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
The Editor and his assistant often joined in the
production of a single paper, such as "A Plated
Article," an account of the Sheffield ware, where Wills
worked up the details of manufacture and Boz supplied
the fancy treatment. In their collected miscellanies
the same paper is often found in both of their collected
miscellanies and claimed by each writer. Wills could
wTite effectively after the rather " machine-made "
pattern required by the journal. Many times was
another party called in to make a third, Hem-y
JMorley, a sort of deputy sub-editor of immense use,
in fact a kind of " handy man." I knew him very well.
He was an admirable dramatic critic, and his volume
of " notices " are a perfect grammar of dramatic
knowledge. He was presently advanced to be professor
in one of the Universities.
Boz was^fond of devising typical characters to figure
in his Journal, with whom he played in amusing
fashion and worked with his own humorous strings.
Such was " jVIr. Whelks," a representative of the
common middle-class observer, whom he took with
him to East End theatres, and whose platitudes he
delighted to record. Another of these beings was
" Mr. Booley " — happy name ! — the great traveller,
whom he ridiculed in the most pleasant fashion.
In his regular novels he could have made much
of these personages. Indeed, once talking with me
over Mrs. Lirriper, he exclaimed rather wistfully,
" The waste of these Christmas supplements is perfectly
dreadful. In one of my regular stories I could have
done immense things with IVIrs. Lirriper ! " " Mr.
Whelks," who was not so distinctly outlined as to live
a long life, soon faded out, as did his compaiiion,
Mr. Booley.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Boz's righteous wrath against quacks and social
evil-doers often betrayed him into a state of vehemence
which was highly entertaining. He used to take a
certain pose on such occasions. For instance, there
was a luckless magistrate who made in public a depre-
ciatory remark on an Englishman as compared with a
German. He gave the victim a tremendous and
scathing " trouncing," and headed his article, " The
A^vful I\Ir. Hall." It recalls his former scourging of the
tyrannical Lang.
But there was another electric motor which supplied
a force to Dickens's writing, and which he was unique in
using. This was the autobiographical element. He
might be said to have invented this character of a
pleasant, shrewd observer (such as he himself was),
with a lively fancy of a humorous turn, going round and
about, seeing oddities and queer things where others
saw nothing, embroidering them with odd fancies.
He was one of the greatest and most acute of observers,
and he put into his books all that had happened to
himself in his life — all his thoughts, feelings, humours —
so that if by any chance all the fifteen or sixteen bio-
graphies of him were destroyed or submerged in some
convulsion we could almost reconstruct his whole life
and adventures out of his writings.
This first volume, then, becomes of extraordinary
interest from the abundance of his recollections and
feelings therein detailed. And here it should be noted
that he could write best and with the most originality
and entertainment when he furnished his own impres-
sions, recollections and feelings, for here was reality
and here life. Thus we have a picture of his stay in his
favourite Broadstairs ; " Our School " — vivid reminis-
cences of his boyhood. His journey to Paris in " A
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
Flight ; " a description of an old and dear friend who
had just died ; an account of his Hfe at Boulogne.
" Out of Town ; " Ufa at an English seaport. " Out of
the Season ; " another seaport.
Already his romantic associations with Rochester —
dear to him always, from his childish recollections —
began to come back on him. He longed to intro-
duce them and make others share in his interest. He
supplied to this little city a renewed vitality and
dramatic significance — the Cathedral, the Eastgate
House, the Watts' s Charity have life and soul infused
into them. But his pen has done yet more for it in the
way of social reform. His sarcastic denouncing of the
abuses in and ministering of a Charity at Rochester
actually led to a complete reconstruction. There was
one institution which he took in hand, and where
a monstrous system prevailed. It was a local
grammar school, with a foundation of large funds
unscrupulously applied. These were in the hands of
the Dean and Canons of " St. Rochford," who took
not the least trouble about the school. Boz, in one of
his most sarcastic articles, gives an almost amusing
picture of the spoliation — how a room was believed
to have taken shape as the stable of one of the Canons,
who seem to have fairly divided the plunder among
themselves. At last the old-fashioned master died,
and a new one of quite a different sort, whom Dickens
calls Mr. Hardhead, succeeded. This gentleman began
to look into matters, searching out the old deeds,
and gradually tracing the funds. He then boldly
demanded not only a share, but actual restitution, to
the horror of Dean and Canons. Then a pamphlet was
published ; the matter was debated in the House of
Commons, but somehow the Dean and his friends
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
succeeded in baffling all attempts. The courageous
master left the place, but still carried on his war, and it
was at this juncture that Boz stepped in wdth his
powerful and amusing exfose. In due course right
prevailed.*
* It is not quite certain that Boz wrote the article, but he certaialy directed
and inspired it.
CHAPTER X
THE " EXTRA CHRISTMAS NUMBERS." GEORGE
CRTTIKSHANK. DICKENS'S METHOD OF EDITING.
A " child's history of ENGLAND." AMONG THE
EARLY VOLUMES.
It is most interesting to seek out what was the
reason of the deep-seated, passionate longing after
Christmas feeUng which dominated Charles Dickens
for the better portion of his life. It is quite an unusual
thing in one of so practical a turn of mind as was our
author. In his buoyant, even " rollicking " Piclcwick,
we find him introducing his love for old Christmas
associations. The passage is thoroughly genuine in
its earnestness and feeling: —
" We \STite these words now, many miles distant
from the spot at which, year after year, we met on that
day, a merry and joyous circle. Many of the hearts
that throbbed so gaily then have ceased to beat ; many
of the looks that shone so brightly then have ceased
to glow ; the hands we grasped have grown cold ; the
eyes we sought have hid their lustre in the grave ; and
yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and
smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and
trivial circumstances connected with those happy
meetings, crowd upon our mind at each recurrence of
the season, as if the last assemblage had been but
yesterday ! Happy, happy Christmas, that can win
us back to the delusions of our childish days ; that can
recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth ; that
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of
miles away, back to his own fireside and his quiet
home ! "
Who can forget in the 'fifties, when the spell was
working, the tide of picture papers with their riotous
scenes of revelry — the carrier arriving with Cliristmas
game, the feastings in the old hall, the schoolboys
returning home, the outcast looking in at the window
while the family feast was rife \\athin, the snow-bound
coach, the " returning home from the Christmas party,"
the snowballing, the " first morning on the ice " ; all
these were set forth in gaudy colouring, then quite a
novelty. Choice artists displayed their talent in really
artistic pictures as though well inspired by the season.
S. Read, with his fine baronial halls and moated granges
(a clever " Moated Granger," as it was called), was in
great demand ; there was Slader and many more of
good repute ; supplements, double numbers abounded,
all overflowing with these subjects. It was impossible
to resist the genial influence of these things. I myself,
an enthusiastic devotee, used to look forward wistfully
to the arrival of these treasures, and to this hour have
carefully treasured all these Christmas numbers,
which with each recurring anniversar}' I take out on
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and enjoy a right
royal feast of retrospection, yet half sad also. In
these things were found some charming songs written
by Bishop, who had written music for Scott's dramas,
then living, and others, which have the genuine
Christmas flavour.
All the cult was owing to the touch of the magician.
It was amazing how he worked on the theme, what
variety and dramatic feeling he infused into it, how
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systematically he carried it out, and how the public
never seemed to tire of the subject. That exquisite
and perfect chrysolite, the Christmas Carol, secured
all to him for ever, it is so genuine, so full of heart
and feeling. To this hour there are thousands who
read it of a Christmas Eve, and even the most Scrooge-
like heart will find itself under the spell. In his Journal
from the first he had put forth tentatively a few
charming little essays such as, "What Christmas is as
we grow older " ; but he presently began to issue the
regular " Christmas Number," a series of charming,
fanciful things, frameworks for stories by other hands.
Such were "The Holly Tree Inn," and the "Wreck
of the Golden Mary " and suchlike, in which I had
my share. These by and by became quite " machine-
made " things as it were, and the old Christmas faith
began to wane. Alas ! for the sad day when he found
his faith failing and the old feeling dried up. " These
old Christmas ' properties ' have been worked to
death," he might have said to himself, " I am sick of
them, so is the public — and I have really said all
that can be said." And so after his return from the
States he announced that he had furnished the last
of these papers.
Yet this Christmas feeling and faith was no fancy
or whim, it was really a part of himself, and bound up
Avith the old child's memories which were so dear to
him, and which he kept in a cabinet as it were, to
be taken out and looked at lovingly. I firmly believe
that in his early Rochester days he had some happy
dehghtful scenes to look back to, some families that
lived at Maidstone, aliter Dingley Dell, where some
exquisite Christmas revels would take place. Happy
days that he never forgot. It may be repeated that
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
this strong, nay, overpowering Christmas dream was
with him for manj'^ years, colouring a large section of
his life, and that its influence spread far beyond the
festival itself and its joys, and helped to intensify
many pleasing emotions and tender memories.*
The yearly custom was to contrive " a framework "
suitably to hold five or six stories, and an outline of
this plot was sent out to likely ^Titers. The Christmas
number of 1856 was prepared for by a sort of circular
sent round to a select number of contributors, and is
in itself a characteristic bit of the master's -wTiting.
The number was to be called The Wreck of the
'''Golden Mary.''''
• Dickens's individual papers on this subject so near to his heart were : —
1850. " A Christmas Tree."
1851. " What Christmas is as we Grow Older."
1852. " The Poor Relation's Story," " The Child's Story."
1853. " The Schoolboy's Story," " Nobody's Story.''
1854. " The Old City of Rochester," " The Story of Richard Doublcdick,"
" The Road," in The Seven Poor TraveUera.
1855. " Myself," " Boots at the Holly Tree Inn," " The Bill," in The HoUy
Tree Inn.
1856. " The Wreck," in The Wreck of the " Golden Mary."
1857. " The Island of Silver Store," " The Rafts on the River," in The Perils
of certain English Prisoners.
1858. " Going into Society," in A House to Lei.
1859. " The Mortals in the House," " The Ghost in Master B.'s Room," in
The Haunted House.
1860. " The Village," " The Money," " The Restitution," in A Message from
the Sea.
1861. " Picking up Soot and Cinders," " Picking up Miss Kimmeens,"
" Picking up the Timber," in Toin Tiddler's Ground.
1862. " His leaving it till called for," " His Boots," " His Brown Paper
Parcel," " His Wonderful End," in Somebody's Luggage.
1863. " How Mrs. Lirriper carried on the Business," " How the Parson added
a Few Words," in Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings.
1864. " Mrs. Lirriper relates how she went on and went over," " Mrs. Lirriper
relates how Tommy topped up," in Mrs. Lirriper's Legacy.
1865. " To be Taken Immediately," " To be Taken for Life," " The Trial,"
in Dr. Marigold's Prescriptions.
1866. " Barbox Brothers," " Barbox Brothers and Co," " The Main Line,"
" The Boy Mugby," No. 1 in Mugby Junction.
148
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
" An English trading ship (with passengers on
board), bound for Cahfornia, is supposed to have got
foul of an iceberg, and becomes a Avreck. The crew
and passengers not being very many in number, and
the captain being a cool man with his wits about him,
one of the boats was hoisted out, and some stores were
got over the side into her before the ship went down.
Then all hands, with a few exceptions, were got into
the boat — an open one — and they got clear of the wreck
and put their trust in God.
" The captain set the course and steered, and the
rest rowed by spells when the sea was smooth enough
for the use of the oars. They had a sail besides. At
sea in the open boat for many days and nights, with the
prospect before them of being swamped by any great
wave, or perishing with hunger, the people in the boat
began after a while to be horribly dispirited. The
captain, remembering that the narration of stories had
been attended with great success on former occasions
in similar disasters in preventing the shipwrecked
persons' minds from dwelling on the horrors of their
conditions, proposed that such as could tell anything
to the rest should tell it. So the stories are introduced.
" The adventures narrated need not of necessity
have happened in all cases to the people in the boat
themselves ; neither does it matter whether they are
told in the first or in the third person. The whole
narrative of the A\Teck will be given by the captain to
the reader in introducing the stories, also the final
deliverance of the people. There are persons of both
sexes in the boat. The ^vrite^ of any story may suppose
any sort of person, or none, if that be all, as the captain
will identify him if need be. But among the wrecked
there might naturally be the mate, the cook, the
carpenter, the armourer (or worker in iron), the boy,
the bride passenger, the bridegroom passenger, the
sister passenger, the brother passenger, the mother or
father passenger, or son or daughter passenger, the
runaway passenger, the child passenger, the old seaman,
the toughest of the crew, etc., etc."
149
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Here were the skeleton and ribs of The Wreck of the
" Golden Mary,'' which had extraordinary success,
though some critics were merry on the idea of the
suffering passengers having to Usten to such long narra-
tives, one adding that he wondered that it did not
precipitate the catastrophe.
The long charm of Christmas association was carried
through a period of over thirty years, from Dinghy
Dell in 1837 to No Thoroughfare, when the fashion
flickered out. One of the industrious chiffoniers we
are now so familiar with might fashion an encyclopaedia
of Christmas description from his works.
I return now to the ordinary course of the journal,
and recall how, at times, Boz would break out in
his own defence with a sort of fantastic indignation,
and his satirical strokes gave much enjoyment.
Thus an article appeared in the Edinburgh Review
on " The License of Modern Novelists," in wliich
Dickens was severely handled for his attacks on the
Circumlocution Office and other pubhc institutions.
The collapse of a house in Bleak House was obviously
suggested to him by a recent fall of houses in
Tottenham Court Road ; it was an unworthy clap-
trap. Dickens defended liimself in excited fashion
on August 1st, 1857. The paper was sarcastically
entitled, "Curious jMisprint in the Edinburgh Review.
The name of Mr. Dickens is at the head of these pages,
and the hand of Mr. Dickens writes this paper." He
proved convincingly that the houses in Tottenham
Court Road could have no connection with his story,
which was written long before. The Review apologized.
His old friend, George Cruikshank, had grotesquely
turned some favourite fairy tales to temperance
150
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
purposes, a subject on which he was in advance of his
da3% and in relation to w hich he was thought somewhat
of "a crank."' This was touching Dickens in a tender
place, and he fell on his friend with much severity. The
paper was in the number for October 1st, 1853, and
called " Frauds on the Fairies." He said that " he
had observed with pain the intrusion of a whole hog
of unwieldy dimensions into the fairy flower garden,"
and then proceeded to sketch the fairy tale of Cinderella
in satirical shape, as George himself might ^vl■ite it,
introducing "Juvenile Bands of Hope," and the like.
The allusion to " whole hogism " was hardly friendly;
but he took such things ver}'^ earnestly, for they touched
all his store of precious romance. Half-seriously,
half-playfully, he had WTitten of his purpose to Wills.
" I mean to protest most strongly against alteration,
for any purpose, of the beautiful little stories which are
so tenderly and humanly useful to us in these times,
when the world is too much with us early and late ;
and then to rewrite Cinderella according to Total
Abstinence, Peace Society, and Bloomer principles, and
expressly for their propagation. I shall want his book.
Hop o' my Thumb (Forster noticed it in the last
Examiner) and the most simple and popular version of
Cinderella you can get me."
The touchy George Cruikshank was perhaps already
brooding over a grievance, and he was soon to
formulate his grotesque charges of plagiarism in the
case of Oliver Twist. So it was perhaps injudicious
of Boz to provoke him. There soon appeared a
retort in the shape of a paper, entitled, " A Letter
from Hop-o' -my -Thumb to Charles Dickens, Esq.,"
in Cruikshank' 3 own magazine, in reply to the
two articles, " Frauds upon the Fairies " and
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
" Whole Hogs," in which he rather smartly defends
himself.
The critical reader will by this time begin to notice
how highly dramatic and original are the incidents
that cluster round Boz in the exercise of his new office ;
but every brilliant, ebullient man can hardly help being
dramatic. He makes drama as he goes. Thus here we
have two great artists tilting against each other
in this highh- quaint form of quarrel. This little
incident is of value, as it shows how closely Boz clung
to all the old tender traditions of childhood, like the
" Dream of a Star," "The ililler and His Men," and so
on. These were his little treasures which he took out of
his memory caskets to look at fondlj^ and dream over.
Who will not sympathise with him ?
Many a strange tale and incident came to him of an
out-of-the-way Idnd likely to make choice reading,
which he was ever eager to welcome, provided that
the situations offered were fresh and new. In short,
anyone who had really " something to tell " was
cordially received. This it was that gave Household
Words such an air of novelty. It was, of course,
always leavened by the professional magazine " hod-
man," who had, however, to catch as he could the
proper tone of the journal.*
Some of the most interesting things were the
personal narratives, such as that of an old soldier
taken down in his ovn\ words almost. Real adventures,
• So cleverly chosen were the titles of papers, so appetising, as it were, that
they in themselves seemed to be a reading of a sort. Who could resist " To hang or
not to Hang," " The Worthy Magistrate," " Doctoring begins at Home," " Brides
for Sale," " A Tight Little Island," " Mind your Manners," " Shops," " Dolls,"
" Idiots," " I (live and Bequeath," " Received a Blank Cheque," " Old Clothes,"
" King Dirt," " Things that cannot be done," " Old Bones," " Blind Sight-seeing,"
" Our Bore," " Justice to the Hyena," " Thirty Days of Pleasure for Fifteen
Francs," " Eyes made to Order," " Jack and the Union Jack."
152
'HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
escapes and exciting bits of travel, personal tours
— all furnished a welcome novelty and variety.
Nothing could give a better idea of Dickens's clear,
business-like methods in arranging the clerical details
of his office than the following " code " of directions
for putting in due order a complicated alteration of
proof shjis. He was dealing with Mrs. Gaskell's " Dark
Night's Work," which had got into a " mess." He
was at a distance, so could only give written directions.
"Follow me," he says, "with the eye of your mind.
The third portion consists of chapters VII and VIII.
The fourth portion begins with slip 27. Turn the slips
over till you come to the one numbered 32 at end of
paragraph 1. After the words ' happened at a sadder
time ' insert Chapter X, which will then begin, ' Before
the June roses,' etc. Turn on again till you come to
slip 34, and stop at that portion at the end of the
first paragraph on it, after the words ' except Dixon,'
etc. The fifth portion will begin Chapter XI, ' In a
few days Miss Monro obtained.' The story must be in
six portions, and I will send you the dividing of the
two last to-morrow." Could anything be clearer or
even more skilful and scientific after the fashion of
small things ?
He was always considerate and kindly and took the
most jealous care not to offend or hurt " classes."
Thus, in one of his humorous articles he had been
ridicuUng the old-fashioned conventionalities of the
Theatre Fran9ais, " their formal habits, their regular
surprises, sm-prising nobody ; their mysterious dis-
closures of immense secrets, known to everybody
beforehand." But reflecting that this light pleasantry
might pain his friend Regnier, who was of that theatre,
he destroyed it.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It has always seemed a strange, unaccoiuitable
thing that Boz, in addition to his many burdens, should
have taken on himself the incongruous task of writing
a History of England for Children ! It must have
entailed much study and dry-as-dust explorings, Avith
the rather laborious cultivation of a juvenile style to
suit his young readers. The result, I believe, was
hardly satisfactory, for it was not in his line ; but the
question remains. What drew him to such a subject ?
unless it were a certain enthusiasm evidenced clearl}''
when he came to describe certain battles. It was odd
that his rival Thackeray came to fancy that he also
was a sort of historian, and made some respectable
attempts in the same direction. It is a curious coinci-
dence. Each, however, seemed to do the same things :
both had magazines, both lectured, both wrote history,
tales and essays. It is, however, to be lamented that
he conceived the idea, as it must have been a tre-
mendous recurring burden that robbed him of many a
bright fancy. Few, I believe, cared for this Child's
History, which was commenced on January 25th,
1851.* And I must confess I never could explain the
rather narrow-minded view he always seemed to hold
in reference to the obnoxious body which he usually
called "the Romish Church." Tliis feeling was really
ingrained in his fine and otherwise truly tolerant
* It was later published in three small and pretty volumes, oddly enough
rarely found to match, or of the same edition, dedicated to his " own dear children,
whom I hope it may help by and by to read with interest larger and better books
on the same subject." It was, however, rather prejudiced. An oddity was
noted that there were passages in these papers that actually fell into rhythmical
shape, such as the account of the Battle of Hastings —
The English broke and fled.
The Normans rallied and the day was lost.
0 what a sight beneath the moon and stars !
The lights were shining in the victors' tents,
Pitched near the spot where blinded Harold fell.
Etc., etc.
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
nature. ] fc was perfectly genuine, and may have been
owing to his friend Forster's views and sympathies,
which had the same hostile complexion.
As a curious proof of the value for Boz-lovers of
troublesome search through these interesting records,
we shall find in the sixteenth number of Volume I an
article called " Dust," a little stor}^ based on the
history of one of the great dust heaps which were then
tolerated about London. Some of the characters are
described as searching one of the huge mounds for
something that was known to be concealed there.
This was discovered at last in the shape of a gold-
framed miniature wrapped in a parchment document,
on which depended an important pecuniary inheritance.
The possessor gained the affections of the daughter of
the wealthy man who was the owner of this great dust
heap. He gave the lover his choice, offering him the
dust heap or twenty thousand pounds down as
the lady's portion. The cash down was preferred.
Now, this little story must have come back to Boz's
mind years later when he was devising the plan of Our
Mutual Friend, to be developed with much humour.
Again, in Number five we come upon " A Coroner's
Inquest," a minute and most graphic account of one of
these squalid inquiries held at " the Old Drury Tavern,
Vinegar Lane." In this all the painful and revolting
details are described, which we can well recognise
in Bleak House. In Volume II we come upon a truly
vivacious article, marked with the genuine sign-manual
of our conductor, entitled " Red Tape." Nothing
more witty or sarcastic can be conceived. He plays
with his subject and puts it in every variety of comic
light. At once we think of the later " Circumlocution
Office," which itself always seemed a rather ponderous
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
circumlocution. Sarcastic, however, as was the treat-
ment of the topic in the story, it may be said beyond
doubt that this brilliant article on " Red Tape,"
sparkling and crackling, has rather more effect than
the elaborate and much-drawn-out treatment offered
in Little Dorrit.
In December, 1850, our Editor found some old
and painful memories revived by a visit to the
old Queen's Bench or Debtors' Prison, Avhere he dis-
covered cases of oppression worse than those of the
Fleet. The old imprisonment for debt had indeed
been abolished, but there was the " contempt of
Court," an ingenious decree for punishing in the same
fashion as the old non-payment of debt. He found
out cases of cruel oppression, notably of one who after
inheriting under a will was called on to refund what he
had legitimately spent, and failing to do so had been
imprisoned eight-and-twenty years ! Could this be
the same " Chancery prisoner " whose pathetic death
is recorded in Pickwick Papers ? though it also recalls
the story told to him by another debtor. Boz records
other disastrous and piteous cases. He lashed the
Court with bitter sarcasm, giving it due credit for
releasing a man who had been imprisoned for seventeen
years by mistake !
Sir Edward Sugden, the brilliant lawyer, came forth
to defend the impeached Coiu-t in a letter to The Times.
Dickens was merry over his excuse that the prisoners
became so attached to the prison that it was impossible
to turn them out ! Sir Edward had actually been the
author of an Act abolishing this punishment for con-
tempt ; but as Boz showed, it was a dead letter, for the
eminent lawyer, on a visit to the gaol, actually found
twenty-four persons thus imprisoned. It was on the
" HOUSEHOLD WORDS "
whole a most interesting discussion between two men
of such eminence, but it may be conceived that the
general sympathy was with the tender-hearted Charles,
who had "served time" in that old grinding school.
These old journals suggest many interesting things
associated with the director. Witness this. In a
letter he had given a direction as to being liberal to one
Charles Whitehead — " let the scale go for him." Now,
who was this Whitehead ? He was the \vTiter of what
seems to me a very powerful romance called Richard
Savage. Not much reputation in that, it will be said,
for it is now unread and unknown. But your true
Pickwickian will recall the name. Here is an old
association with Boz of exceeding interest. For it
was Whitehead who nearly thirty years before had
been offered the task of writing up to Seymour's
Sporting Plates, but on declining had suggested a
clever young fellow he wot of — the immortal Charles.
What an escape for the public ! All Pickwickians ought
to set up a tablet to Whitehead's memory.
Under such conditions it was impossible but that
this journal, thus inspired and designed, should have
proved superior in every particular and, leavened
through and through with the one personality — that
of a man of genius — should have grown into a most
exceptional and unusual miscellany, attractive from
every point, above all from this intense personality ; for
every week the popular writer was presenting himself
in some pleasant shape. Even now, when we chance
upon an old, very early volume, when all was new and
fresh, we are detained over it against our will, all but
fascinated by the pleasant, entertaining variety of
subject and treatment. The eye passes from title to
title, and their ingenious suggestiveness is in itself
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
amusing. The short stories, too, are most piquant
and original, and the accounts of small industries and
manufactures, such as the story of a match or a lump
of coal, most instructive. All the while we feel that
we are listening to the conductor in person, who is
putting things forward in his own brilliant style. He
delighted also in registering permanently racy accounts
of his own expeditions, where he had enjo3'ed himself
in company with a choice friend and could expend
himself in his accustomed gaiete de coeur. As in 1851,
when he and Forster set off to visit certain abbey ruins
in Kent, which he called Pumkinfield, where " a Great
Battle was fought." These ruins were the property of
a local owner, who exhibited them as a show place,
taking huge fees. But this owner fell into bad
hands on the occasion in question, and suffered severely,
as everyone could recognise him. Forster and he must
have enjoyed their visit hugely. Simpson, as he named
the proprietor, was covered with "chaff" and ridicule,
and the whole scene is described with infinite humour
and sarcasm. Indeed, I have often thought what a
pleasant little contribution to Boz's biograph}' could be
formed if these little piquant incidents were gathered
together. Simpson must have Avrithed as he read, for
the paper was now reprinted in the local and hostile
journals.
The Dickens dry-as-dusts have found some of their
strangest and most frequent quarrys in searching out
the exact authorship of certain papers — were they by
Boz himself or by another, or was he helped ? Such
debated rarities have fetched " long prices." Witness
one specimen :
There was a trifling paper in Household Words on
St, Luke's Hospital, which Dickens, prompted by his
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
charitable heart and knowing the pecuniary value of a
word from him, \vished to assist ; so with the aid of his
sub-editor he put together an artistic appeal under the
title of " A Curious Dance Round a Christmas Tree."
This was reprinted in a small pamphlet, and in due
course became scarce and recherche, fetching fancy
prices. Why, nobody could say. Wills, it is said,
MTote the chief portion, and his chief, in his own clever
way, added a paragraph here and there and touched
the whole up. This suggests what an amazing fertility
this great writer could display, and all his writing was
thus bound up with the social movements and workings
of his time. He was, in truth, a great motive force,
not a mere ^vTiter of stories, a master of written language
which he could use as a weapon.
159
CHAPTER XI
DETAILS OF THE EDITING
Thus successfully the new journal pursued its
prosperous course. It seemed almost a thing of life,
so completely did the genial, gifted Editor identify
himself with it. For close on nine or ten years he was
to be unsparing of himself and of hi& labour. He put
all his feehngs, emotions, humours into it. Every
subject was inspired by him, selected by him, altered,
moulded according to what he thought should be the
spirit of such a journal. Nothing, indeed, is more
extraordinary than his nice and delicate scruples as
to the suitability of some paper, or incident, or of a
passage or passages, the fruit of laborious, conscientious
thought. His principle was to stimulate, encourage
and direct others, and when there was any flagging of
the interest, to " strike in " himself.
After a few numbers had been issued, it became
easy to recognise the clear and distinct purpose of the
work. Its great aim was to supply information on
what are called the " actualities " of surrounding
life, to deal with the " business of pleasure " and the
pleasures of business ; but all was to be presented in a
lively, attractive, and ever humorous fashion. The
institutions of daily life were made to give up their
secrets, manufactures, streets, houses, and so on.
In March, 1853, he was writing to his assistant editor
in pleasant style of various unsuitable contributions :
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
" I am sorry, but Brutus sacrifices unborn children of
liis own as well as those of other people." ' The
Sorrows of Children,' long in type and a mere long
mysterious name, must come out. The paper really
is, like the celebrated ambassador's appointment,
' too bad.' ' Starting a paper ' is very droll to us.
But it is full of references that the public don't
understand, and don't in the least care for. Bourgeois,
brevier, minion, and nonpareil, long primer, turnups,
di'awing advertisements and reprisals, back forms,
imposing stone blocks, etc., are all quite out of their
way, and a sort of slang that they have no interest in."
This was sound criticism, and applies to much more
than the instance given. Writers too often think that
what pleases themselves must please the reader. But
a primer of literary instruction could be compiled from
Dickens's letters.
From the opening of the journal Boz always kept
steadily before his eyes, as a sort of reserve force,
the introduction of a serial story, either by himself or
by some conspicuous writer. This resource, however,
was to be kept for an emergency, in case of some
temporary flagging of the interest ; but in time it
grew to be a regular staple or basis of his arrangements.
The idea was no doubt suggested by the French system.
Within three or four j^ears, namely, in April, 1854, he
had to avail himself of this aid with " Hard Times,"
a ver}^ short, almost ephemeral story. It appeared
during only four months and two weeks, a contrast
to his usual twenty months' span. This coup had
actually the result of doubling the circulation of the
paper.
Dickens appears to have been a master in the art
of arranging his monthly part : he would '' take out"
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
and alter, so as to make as prominent as possible the
exciting incident. But he was now ventiiring to
present before his readers in a story laid out in
weekly portions, namely, " Hard Times," one of those
recuperating tales which he had occasionally to supply
when public attention was relaxed, and usually with
good results.
The French, as we know, have long been accustomed
to the weekly, even to a daily feuilleton — a system
against which objections could be offered. In a daily
article the author has hardly room to " turn about "
or develop incident, and Boz must have found th3
same difficulty when trying to infuse some stirring
action into each weekly portion. IMonthly treatment
seems the limit. Tlie \\Titer cannot supply these
hebdomadal stimulants regularly; the result will
be that such stimulants, from repetition, lose all
effect.
Dickens, as the world knows, was the great
" exploiter " of the " monthly part " system, which
he worked up with amazing skill and even science.
This science was found in the art of developing a story
in successive portions, a different thing from presenting
it as a whole. He was now attempting a new system —
that of offering a story in weekhj portions. He had,
however, already attempted that S3^stem in his
" Master Humphrey's Clock," issued in eighty-eight
weekly numbers, and also in monthly parts. But
now he had to Avrite for both monthly and weekly
audiences. Such conditions must have seriously
affected the construction. For in these weekly
fragments he had to offer somethinfj of interest in each
portion, so as to hold the reader and lead him on to
the next.
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
It is curious to find what a difference there is in
reading the serial " Hard Times "* in its weekly
instalments and in the completed form. Boz seems to
have WTitten and catered specially for this hebdomadal
reading. Even now take up a straj'^ number and you
find yourself interested by the five or six columns of
writing, without caring to follow the story ; for here is
a collection of characters, humorous strokes and
incidents quite sufficient to attract and well worth
the twopence laid out. It was the same with the
monthly parts, Avhich were bought almost as complete
books or booklets. I well recall when his more exciting
stories were coming out in this detached shape, sucli
as Dombey, when the librarians actually hired out their
copies, and when you saw the green covers in
everybody's hand, for all were enchanted with it.
Every line of the number was devoured ; the witty
strokes, then quite novel, got by heart and quoted
* Dickens's usual fertility in suggesting titles was to be exhibited on this
occasion. He suggested : —
1. " According to Cocker."
2. " Prove It."
8. " Stubborn Things."
4. "Mr. liradgrind's Facts."
t>. " The Grindstone."
6. " Hard Times."
7. " Two and Two are Four."
8. " Something Tangible."
0. " Our Hard-headed Friend."
10. " Rust and Dust."
11. " Simple Arithmetic."
12. " A Matter of Calculation."
13. "A Mere Question of Figures."
14. " The Gradgrind Philosophy."
But the old difficulty of making each weekly portion carry the mechanical frame-
work of the story, and yet display something attractive or exciting, was a sore
burden. " The difficulty of the space." he complained to Forster, after a few weeks'
trial, " is crushing. Nobody can have an idea of it who has not had an experience
of patient fiction-writing with some elbow-room always, and open places in
perspective. In this form, with any kind of regard to the current number, there
is absolutely no such thing." The final chapter was written at Boulogne in July,
18.>t. and in a note to Forster (written just before the close of the tale) the author
s lid : " I am three parts mad, and the fourth delirious."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
at dinner tables. Now, of course, his phrases and quips
belong to the common currency, and have become
quite familiar. Still, this change of treatment, so
intermittent and contrary, must have had a bad effect
on his style, which he had to adapt in Procrustean
fashion to the different situations.
A great charm of the journal was this, that when
Boz felt anything acutely, grievance or oppression, he
could vent his protest in rather excited strain in his
own organ. He would place it in the verj^ front page,
so that it should be the first to strike the eye. He
spoke as from his own pulpit. This controversial tone
lent a pecuhar life and attraction. If we indeed went
carefully through the whole nineteen or twenty volun es
we would be astonished at what an amount of personal
details and history connected with Boz's own life we
should put together. He really could ^vrite nothing
that did not reflect his own eager thoughts and feelings
and perhaps prejudices ; he revealed himself in every
shape, form and suggestion. As we have said, in this
respect of thorough personality the Household Words
may be said to be quite unique. The form and pressure
of the Editor's thoughts and sympathies are revealed in
every line ; his vital influence made itself felt every-
where. Where he did not Avrite he influenced and
directed. It was only a man of his conspicuous
influence and vast reputation that could produce such
a result. Hence Household Words will always be found
an attractive miscellany exhibiting the great wTiter
almost as much in the pages of the magazine as in any
of his official writings.
Forster has well described the principles that guided
Dickens in his system of dealing with contributors.
They were of a thorough, conscientious kind. " It was
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
distinguished above all," he saj's, " by liberaHty ; and
a scrupulous consideration and delicacy evinced by him
to all his \\Titers was part of the esteem in which he held
literature itself." This was most true, and even below
the truth. He was really lavish in the matter of money,
and would insist on remunerating writers for work that
was of no use to him. In fact, according to the phrase,
'■ money was no object." Equally striking was the
confidence he put in the person to whom he had
entrusted some plan. " Whatever you see your way
to," he would say, " I will see mine to," and we knew
and understood each other well enough to make the
best of these conditions.
Forster also speaks of the extraordinary industry
with which he conducted his journal and the un-
wearied efforts he made to " put himself " with all
his personality into it. He would revise and improve
every article, sometimes spending as much as four
hours over one, "hacking and hewing it" into shape,
until he had made the proof look, as he humorously
said, "hke an inky fishing net." Nothing could be
more true than this image, and the cost must have
been enormous.
Apart from his brilliant gifts, Dickens, as his
followers well know, was one of the most thorough,
conscientious and workmanlike writers. On evei'ything
that concerned the mechanism of his work he did his
very best to bring the best of his judgment, sagacity
and labour to bear. The litterateur may gather many
a useful lesson from his life in this way, from his tact,
his knowledge of public taste and fancies, and the
minutest details of arrangement. This offers a
contrast to the sj^stem now in vogue, when a \VTiter of
popularit}' and with a name is privileged to offer
165
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
anything that he chooses to ^^Tite to the pubUc, and
it is presumed that the pubhc must be wilhng to accept
it on this warrant of his name. But Dickens was
unwearied in his attempts at finding out exactly what
would do. He could play in delightful fashion with the
figures in his house of business, making them quaint and
dramatic, and setting them to talk. Witness this happy
sketch, in which the whole personnel performs :
" Some demon sprite will somehow have informed
you before I write this letter, that IVIr. has
poisoned himself. Frederick Chapman WTote me last
night that he had done it 'in his father's house.'
A gloomy professional purchaser of Nos., with a dirty
face, whom Johnson presented to me in the shop
to-day as ' this young man who is always do^\^l in
Whitefriars,' at half past 11 a.m. of this day offered
to make oath ' wot he dun it in Cre-morne in a bottle
o' Soda Water. It wos last Sunday, wot he knowed
Mr. Simpson well, and he dun it there.' Holdsworth
(in a cracked voice and with a great deal more hair
on his head than he can possibly govern) said that he,
the deceased, ' had been laying it at I\Iiss 's
door for her getting married.' God knows whether
any blurred vision of that most undesirable female
with the brass-headed eyes, ever crossed his drunken
mind. Frederick (^hapman seemed to think it an
extraordinarily unpolite thing that he hadn't waited
over to-morrow, ' when he knew his brother was going
to be married.' And that 's all I know of the gliastly
story."
Many lessons might be learned from Dickens
by those who would study the mechanism of writing.
His principles were ever sound, sensible and consistent,
thought out carefully, not capriciously adopted, and
inflexibly adhered to. Such niceties as the use of
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
capitals, parentheses, daslies, stops, were all adopted
according to fixed rules. In letter \vriting it is thought
that a certain license and carelessness is privileged,
but he was as scrupulous in his letters as in his printed
works. The late M. Renan had a theory that letters
should not be published at all, as they are irresponsible
productions, and do not fairly represent the writer's
official ideas. They are intended for a single individual
and are akin to talk, by which no one holds himself
bound. But Dickens's letters were as conscientious
and genuine as his print. Everyone is aware of the
common, reckless use of italics, a sort of lazy economy
of thought, which crudely supplies the lack of fitting
expression. It is a fashion to emphasise the beauties
of another by taking the same liberty with his text.
How sensible and acute are Dickens's views on this
point. The practice he thought was introduced or
enlarged by Hunt.
" It does appear to be a kind of assertion of the
editor over the reader, almost over the author himself,
which grates on me. The author might almost as
well do it himself to my thinking as a disagreeable
thing ; it is such a strong contrast to the modest,
quiet, tranquil beauty of The Deserted Village. The
practice always reminds me of a man seeing a beautiful
view, and not thinking how beautiful it is half so
much as what he shall say about it."
He himself had many ingenious and quite legitimate
devices of his o^\^l for caUing attention to what he
wished to be thought important, such as putting a word
in capitals or in a paragraph to itself. Sometimes he
would be sadly disappointed with the number when
sent to him " made up." " I am grievously depressed
by it," he ^\Tote of one in October, 1852 ; " it is so
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
exceedingly bad. The first article would not do for
an opening. The article was a mistake. Firstly, the
subject requires the greatest discretion and nicety of
touch ; and secondly, it is all \^Tong and self-contra-
dictory." He had tried to alter and patch it up, but it
was " as wide of a first article as anything can be."
" About ' Sunday in Paris ' there is no kind of doubt —
take it out. Such a thing as a crucifixion, unless it
were done in a masterly manner, we have no business
to stagger families with. Lord bless me ! what I
could write under that head ! Strengthen the number,
pray, by anything good you may have. It is a very
dreary business as it stands. The proofs want a
thorough revision."
In this intimate connection of Dickens with his
journal we find something almost dramatic constantly
turning up. Ho so thoroughly " lived in it " that it
became a part of himself ; it Avas with him always.
His friends and contributors, A\ith their private ways
and fashions and thoughts, were associated with the
paper and mixed up with his private life. This is what
gives it its vitality and charm and makes it so
interesting.
Thus years later — so late as August, 1S69 — he sent
his daughter Mamie the sheets of a " remarkable story "
which he thought might please her. '* I offer," he said,
" a prize of six pairs of gloves, between 3'ou, your aunt,
and Ellen Stone as competitors, to whomsoever will
tell me what idea in this second part is mine. I don't
mean an idea in language or the turning of a sentence
in any letter descriptive of an action or a gesture or
what not in a small way, but an idea distinctly affecting
the whole story, as I found it. You are all to assume
that I found it in the main as you read it, with one
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
exception. If I had WTitten it I should have made the
woman love the man at last ; but I didn't \vi-ite it, so
finding that it wanted som.ething, I put that something
in. What was it ? "
How delightfully piquant is this ! How interesting
he could ever make himself to his own family ! Most
ordinarj' persons would scarcely think it worth while,
or would not have time to exert themselves in this
fashion.
Our author was, of course, through his life beset
with applications from aspiring candidates for his
" valued opinion " on the merits of literary perfor-
mances or their capacity of maldng a living at the
profession. The unwearied patience Avith which he
would receive and consider such requests was truly
remarkable. He seems to have invariably replied,
kindly but firmly, dissuading the applicant where he
saAv that they had no real talent for " writing." He
was equally candid when influential friends undertook,
as they often did, to introduce their own clients. It is
astonishing to think of this busy man sitting down
deliberately and conscientiously to consider such
futilities, but in his letters he carried out truly his great
principle of doing his best.
In his wish to have the productions of his writers
put fairly before him for his judgment, and thus give
them every chance, he often had them set up in type,
which must have increased his outlay for printing to
a considerable degree. From my own experience
I can give an instance. When, but little experienced
in novel writing I brought him a one-volume novel,
he said in his good-natured fashion.
" Well, to give it every chance I '11 have it set up
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
aOuU length for you ; if it doesn't suit me it may
someone else."
He was certainly the fairest, most spirited, and
conscientious of editors, thus illustrating in this point
his favourite maxim of doing everything in his best
way, and taking every means to secure what was
the best.
The most welcome papers in the journal are be3'ond
doubt those of a pureh' personal kind, which really
furnish a complete picture of his own thoughts, feelings
and adventures during a long course of years. As
]\Ir. Forster says, " They had a character and
completeness derived from their plan and from their
personal tone, as well as frequent individual
confessions. Their titles expressed a personal liking.'"
This referred to the " Uncommercial " papers, but all
his titles had this very significance, and betrayed the
author's partiality. They told a story, as it were.
In taking up volumes of collected essays of this
kind, long after this day of their ephemeral success,
we are conscious of a certain flatness, as of champagne
left long uncorked. This is owing to the peculiar form,
or the shape in which they appeared. The ^^Titers
were compelled, owing to the necessity of producing
effect, to adopt a tone of exaggeration. Everything,
even trivial, had to be made more comic than it really
was. This was the law of the paper, and the reader
is conscious of it when he takes up the journal after
an interval of years. As I can testify from my own
experience, this pressure became all but irresistible.
A mere natural, una^'ected account of any transaction,
it was felt, was out of place ; it would not harmonise
with the brilliant, buoyant things surrounding it. I
often think with some compunction of my own
170
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
trespassings in this way, and of the bad habit one
gradually acquired of colouring up for effect, and of
magnifying the smallest trifle.
Boz rarely meddled with artistic matters — art was
scarcely part of his equipment. Once he made a rather
venomous attack on the new Pre-Raphaelite Brethren,
ridiculing " one of these strange creatures with a
dislocated throat, and horrible in her ugliness, while
nobody is paying any attention to a sniffing old woman
who seems to have mistaken that shop for the
tobacconist's next door." He then fell on the Academy,
and humorously suggested that we should have other
" pre-something souls," such as a pre-perspective
Brotherhood, a pre-Newton one, where gravity should
be left out, a pre-Galileo one, with no " travelling
round the sun," and many more rough quips of the
kind. The piece was entitled, " New Lamps for Old
Ones."* Pugin, whom he never favoured, was brought
on, "being engaged to supply manuscript characters
that nobody on earth shall be able to read."
It is quaint to think that many of these
" eccentrics " became later his fast friends, notably
Millais, and that another became his son-in-law. He
must have been seriously WTOught, " perplexed in the
extreme," for he rarely adopted this tone.!
* Two or three years later I find him writing to Millais apologetically : " I
send you the account of the Fire Brigade which we spoke of last night. If you
have in your mind any previous association with the pages in which it appears —
very hkely you have none — it may be a rather disagreeable one. In that case I
hope a word, frankly said, may make it pleasanter. Objecting very strongly to
what I beUeved to be an unworthy use of your great powers, I once expressed the
objection in this same journal. My opinion on that point is not in the least
changed, but it has never dashed my admiration of your progress in what I suppose
are higher and better things. In short, you have given me such great reasons (in
your works) to separate you from uncongenial association, that I wish to give
you in return one little reason for doing the like by me," etc.
t I recall a delightful, even jovial supper, after one of the Readings, when he
brought home Millais, myself, and one or two more. Not in the least fatigued by
his exertions, he was the "" life and soul " of the party.
171
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
Boz was ever willing in the case of a friend to give
" bold advertisement " to any of his performances,
and he generally contrived to do this in a skilful, if
artful fashion. Once, however, this form of his good
nature led him into an awkward embarrassment, which
3'et must have made him " laugh consumedly." No
one enjoyed such situations more, even when they were
at his own expense. There was a show then exhibiting,
a Panorama of the Overland Route to India, painted by
some of his artist friends. He represented an imaginary
Mr. Booley as travelling in the East, and gravely and
seriously describing all that he saw. Mr. Booley was
being actually entertained by " The Social Oysters,"
to whom he unfolded his adventures as though he
had been really on his travels. It was a rather
ponderous jest, but it served.
At the close he gave the health of IVIr. Banvard,
Mr. Brees, INIr. Bonomi, IVIr. Thomas Grieve, etc.
This was simple enough, but in a few weeks' time he
had to print " a card from Mr. Booley." It seemed that
besides Mr. Grieve, the famous scene painter, there
were others, such as Mr. Telbin, who had lent their
services, and who possibly resented their names
being omitted. Hence " Mr. Booley's card." And
so Boz in his amende has to recite all the names of
these sensitive gentlemen. Here is certain proof that
bare mention in Household Woi-ds was of value to
reputation.
Mr. Rudolph Lehmann, IM.P., a man of many varied
gifts, has recently published a full account of Wills's
confidential relations with Dickens when acting as his
assistant-editor (see page 120). Here we have the pair
in council debating writers and choice of subjects,
" making up " the number for the best dramatic efifect,
172
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
and iindertakiiig a needless proof-correcting, as it were,
which might have been spared and left to an inferior
skilled hand. The curious feature was the cold, rather
" hard " attitude taken up by Boz, who here showed
himself the man of business and little else, and a clever,
capable man of business too. But the impression left
was hardly that of the genial and engaging conductor.
It came as a complete surprise to myself — -to me who
was closely connected with him in innumerable trans-
actions. I had found quite another Dickens to deal
with. But what could not but affect me most of all was
to compare his stern severity to notable men, such as
Sala, Home and others, who had failed him or shirked
their duties, and his great leniency to myself. With
them he would " stand no nonsense," but with me he
was but too indulgent. For this his readers need only
glance at all he wrote to me.
Nothing gives such an idea of Dickens's all but
appalling industry in editing — his labor improbus — as
the record thus furnished by Mr. Lehmann. He
seemed never to relax for a moment, and continued
his efforts to the end and to the very last ; whether away
in the country or abroad or at the office, it was the
same.
By October, 1851, the editor, as related elsewhere,
taking due stock of his journal, found reason to make a
gentle complaint to his subordinate of a serious want
in the complexion of the paper, namely, "elegance of
fancy." There was no complaint of Wills ; it was due to
the "form and pressure " of events. There was a dreary
arithmetical " Cocker-cum-Walkinghame dustiness "
(as he drolly expressed it !) that was powerfully
depressing. Wills made a very reasonable defence.
He compared it with other journals to its advantage.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
The elegance of fancy it was impossible to supply to
order in every number, and the conductor might weekly
scatter sprinklings of his own \vit and fancy : he sug-
gested that every week he should go over each article
and " touch them up " in this fashion. This Boz soon
came to do, and so plentifully as to turn the slips into
a network of blue lines and insertions, thus severely
increasing the cost of the setting.
The mere arrangement and order of the papers
seemed of immense importance to him. He, perhaps
exaggerating, would shift, take out, substitute, so as to
secure better eflfect. He would make calculations of
the " slips," cut do\vn, expand, or cancel. He had
to be on his guard against " faked " papers copied
from old magazines and sent as new compositions.
He had a wonderful gift for detecting such impositions,
but the inquiries took time.
" I return the proofs, but they will want to be
looked over very carefully. ' The Flag of England '
taboo. ' Across the Street ' to be postponed, as too
evidently a remnant from the Christmas number, and
would come too near that story of Thomas. Lead off
the number with ' The Guards and the Line.' . . .
See to the proof, the pinictuation, and slovenly compo-
sition here and there. Howitt all right, but take out
his German poetry altogether or make him render it
in English ; also ' Zoological Auction.' "
" The proof is arrived. I will read it and \\Tite
about it when I have done my article. ... I send a
paper of White's." In a single letter he thus disposes
of office business. He proposed to rearrange the whole
number. "Get Collins into the opening. Taken some
things out of Sala. The Poem ' very good ' (but he
criticizes it). ' Looking Out of Window ' ridiculously
174
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
printed, huddledry sentences, etc." The same remark
applied to another paper : " Pray look at proof and
copy." Referring to his own paper, not sure but that
he used an allusion to be found in a previous one : " Will
you refer back." Wills was to write a special article.
Now, all these topics concerned a single number.
In ilr. Lehmann's interesting volume we find close
upon four hundred pages of astonishing entries of this
kind, an amount of steady " spade work " quite sufficient
to engross all the energies of an active man and ex-
pended regularly week by week. And yet after all
one is inclined to ask, Was it needful or necessary ?
Above all, we might put these questions : Could not
the bulk of the labour have been deputed ? and was
not all this painstaking effect at selection and arrange-
ment, this contrasting of papers and the rest, more
or less superfluous, and a matter which the public
was indifferent to or scarcely regarded ? It was
cutting blocks with the razor, and such a finely-
tempered razor !
We must, however, discriminate between the two
journals, Household Words and All the Year Round.
The fbrst to this hour displays his complete personality,
and is permeated with it, for the reason that he took
such infinite unflagging pains to make himself present.
We take up a volume ; it has a quaintly old-fashioned
air, and seems to breathe forth all Idnds of memories.
But this is not the impression left by its successor.
One of the most characteristic specimens of the
Household Words treatment — that is of presenting grave
and intricate matter in lively humoristic style —
is a series of papers dealing with a crying abuse — the
monstrous carelessness in the custody of wills and such
valuable papers in diocesan registry offices. A sort of
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
special commissioner went round visiting the various
districts, interviewing the custodians and officials, and
bringing home the most startling accoimts of the
treatment of the old parchments, wills and other
documents. The result was set forth in a series of
humorous or grotesque reports, clearly inspired and
"touched up" by the Editor himself, who seemed to
revel in the humorous observation of the registrars and
other officials. All these farcical sketches of abuses
proved to be his own method of reform, and were
almost alwavs crowned with success.
176
CHAPTER XII
Dickens's charities. his tolerance and good
HUMOUR as editor. HIS OWN CONTRIBUTIONS
TO THE JOURNAL. A CRISIS APPROACHING.
To Dickens's weekly record of letters we owe an extra-
ordinary, unexpected revelation of the extent to which
the generous administrator exercised the charity which
he conscientiously believed was due to the poor. It
came on me as a sort of revelation, though well knowing,
with all the community, how tender was his heart;
that he thought himself bound, as the monastic
order is by vow, to the service of the poor, and that
once an uttered request for relief came to him, he had
in solemn conscience to grant it ! He thought it just
as imperative as a tradesman's bill for goods supplied.
In the lower portion of the office where the sale of
the numbers was conducted was installed for many
years, and for more years again after Dickens's death,
a worthy Holdsworth, an official always cheery and
efficient. The chief, when Wills was away, used to
write to him and employ him on little confidential
missions. He was really and in truth his official
almoner. It was wonderful how the energetic Editor,
with all the calls upon his time, contrived to look after
small details of his charities and always in the most
systematic and business-like fashion. Thus he would
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
send this follower forms of letters which he was to copy
carefully and dispatch to the postulant.
I once saw a series of letters addressed to this
agent, which supply the most striking, amazing evidence
of Dickens's generous and systematic character. He
was ayvsLy in France, but in constant touch with
his famil3\ " Begging letters " would arrive in vast
numbers, and these seem to have been regularh'-
forwarded to him and noted. The rule was almost
invariable — " Go to the address and inquire into the
case. If the statement be true, give the enclosed
cheque for £5." This was truly extraordinary, and
throws a wondrous light upon his character.
It is an almost incredible thing, and we read these
numerous scraps of direction with wonder. He appeared
to be directing bills to be paid, and so thej^ seemed to him,
for he considered that he owed the mone3^ In one of
his letters we find : "I send with this a black surtoiit —
that and £2 will be sufficient for the Rathbone Place
man, £2 for Macpherson the orphan, £1 for a needle-
woman, and after this I must really pull up."* All
which is significant of a systematic liberality. I say
it deliberately that this extraordinary, well-organised
system of giving to the poor is without parallel in the
case of any great writer. Such, indeed, might be found
in that of a professed philanthropist, such as ]Miss Coutts
in his own day. But the wonder is to see this much-
sought, brilliant being, finding himself under some
compelling force to consider what his poor neighbours
might want, searching them out, following the example
of St. Vincent of Paul. Every moment of his time
was employed, but he found time for this holy work.
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
He was for personal service as against " drawing
cheques " ; but his friend Forster knew him well when
he wrote the lines prefixed to his Life of Goldsmith,
quoted in another part of this book.
Here are some casual allusions to the fraternity's
demands upon him, where, it will be seen, he almost
accepts the begging-letter writer's claims as all but
legitimate : —
" I return three (see P.S.), retaining Miss Walpole's,
late of the St. James's Theatre. She has been a
begging-letter Avriter, within my knowledge, these
fifteen years. Mrs. Ramo Samee is a case that there
is no doubt about. John has been there once, and can
do the needful again. Something like a couple of
guineas, I should think, would be the sum most useful
to her. But if there were any hope (I fear there is
not) of doing her any real good with more, I should
not object to more. The other two letters I really
cannot form a judgment upon. But I a little distrust
' E. ilartell ' who advertised in the Chronicle. Do
you think them worth inquiring into ?
'' I bear such a long, long train, that I am never
rich, and never was, and never shall be. But
( excepted), I always want to make some approach
towards doing my duty, and I could give awaj^ £20
in all just now to alleviate real distress — should be as
happy to do that as I should be the reverse in lazily
purchasing false comfort for myself under the specious
name of charity."
Here is a fine sense of duty, regulated perhaps a
little indiscreetly ; but who shall blame him for that —
wliich proves how steadily he was influenced by his
fine feeling of charity. And yet this is but one
specimen.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
A unique thing about Dickens, and it is rarely-
found in men of his high position, was his wonderful
tolerance as an Editor. His indulgence, good humour,
patience, and above all admission of those he was
dealing with to perfect equality, becomes almost
amazing when we think of what are the usual relations
between the well-worked editor and those dependent
on his favour. To some highly-important contributor
such will, of course, be accommodating ; but to the
young, unheralded wTiter, who is deeply gratified and
elated at his employment, he is usually unceremonious
and leaves the duty of dealing with him to the deputy.
As for opening his mind and heart to the juvenile
beginner, and explaining, elaborating, why or where-
fore, he declines, such a thing is not dreamt of. A
printed form tells him the thing " won't do," " won't
suit," " very sorry," and so on. As for anecdotes, jokes,
pleasant remarks, kindly reference to private or family
matters, there is again no time.
No one but those who had evidence of his labours,
and actually seen him at his work, could credit the
extent to which he taxed and over-taxed his strength,
and of this latter he had not very much in reserve ;
but his vigorous spirit never relaxed or failed him.
The outside world had no idea of the heavy drudgery
that he carried on during some twenty j^ears. It
simply assumed that his time was fully occupied with
" the kindly engendure " of his novels, an eas}^ and
agreeable occupation, taking him about a couple of
years with an interval of about the same length between
each. Then there came the heavy drudgery of the
Readings kept up for years, a heavy burden. Who
could consider that all the time there was going on
the deadly toll of editorship, which week by week had
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
to be paid, entailing many hours of hard work and
anxious care and thought ? It was fancied that the
real burden fell on the well-paid assistant-editor, and
that only the light, decorative touchings were reserved
by Boz for himself.
When Wills wished to add to his other duties that of
editing The Civil Service Gazette his " chief " wrote to
him in somewhat severe style — almost sternly refusing
to sanction the proposal. He made it clear to him that
he would have to sacrifice his present post. Dickens
was in the right, as it would be impossible to edit two
such papers in a satisfactory way. Wills rather ruefully
had to abandon his project.* A curious allusion shows
that Boz had allowed his deputy to " speculate " in
the fortunes of the story Hard Times, in which
speculation he seems to have been unsuccessful.
The impression left by reading Mr. Lehmann's
records is that here an inexhaustible and buoyant
spirit was found ever ready, ever prepared, never
uncertain or wavering, but decided always and directing
with a firm, masterful purpose. Never do we find
him, I shall not say out of temper, but out of humour.
And how resourceful ! In the numberless difficulties
of the machine, there he was always with a rernedy or
method of extrication. His policy always certain and
consistent, while his followers could always look to him
for safe guidance. He kept the iimumerable threads
gathered up in his own hands, delegating nothing.
Indeed, nobody was capable of assisting or even
advising him, for there was an enormous distance
between him and his followers. How he could really
appreciate good^service and valuable assistance is
spondence, which is somewhat dry in
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
shown by what he thought of the invaluable
Arthur Smith, a precious man of business, exactly
suited to him, and the well-trained Wills himself, whose
very value he only found out when he had lost him.
Another wonderful thing was to find him ever
patiently explaining to his subordinates " the why and
wherefore " of all that he proposed to do and the grounds
of his objections. The typical editor would have said
magisterially " do so and so " or " it must be so."
And how happily he seasoned his objection with a
pleasant quip or jest, for
A merrier man
Within the limits of becoming mirth
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
All Dickens's contributions to his journal are
delightful and of absorbing interest, because so auto-
biographical, told also with an engaging frankness and
humour. It is extraordinary that his much-loved cit}'
of Rochester has not shown more recognition of his
ardent, passionate love for it and the immortalit}' he has
given to it. Every stone of it almost finds a place in
his memory. His first book and his last were devoted
to it. It was his inspiration throughout, because stored
with his precious childhood's memories. All through
his journal he was turning back to it.
A happy illustration of his practice of binding up
happy memories with some favourite spot where he
had spent happy days was furnished in a paper entitled
" Pavilionstone," which was a vivid, picturesque sketch
of Folkestone. Every touch recalls the place, and all
is set off with many humorous and witty strokes.
The name was due to his liking for the well-known,
comfortable hostelry, for which he had a sort of affection.
Gad's Hill was on the South-Eastern line, and many a
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
time when he was a Httle " run down " he would haste
to the statioii and make straight for Paris, and on his
return, arriving about daybreak, would turn in to this
comfortable shelter and find repose. He loved such
associations and recalled them gratefully.*
One of his most animated of these travelling
sketches, so startling in its vividness and pictorial
force, is entitled "A Flight," and so indeed it is, for
he whirls us along with him on his journey. What
was this '' flight " ? It was his attempt to paint in
vivid words the whole course of a journey from
London to Paris by the express route, then considered
a marvellous performance for speed and certainty.
It is most dramatic. You seem to start with him in
the morning, to be whirled along. " Bang ! " that is
a station passed and gone. There are amusing charac-
teristics, touches of comedy and farce. Then the day
wearing on, there is the sense of a change to the French
country, charmingly described, the languor of travel,
and final arrival in Paris — all wonderfully done. So
with " Our French Watering Place," that is Boulogne,
and " Our English Watering Place," Broadstairs,
equally vivid ; all delightful reading and full of charming
pictures. They also belong to his autobiography. In
the former is the exquisite sketch of his landlord, under
the name of Loyal. With a just pride the relatives of
this worthy Frenchman have placed on his grave a
sentence of Dickens in English, warmly praising his
trusty quaUties and faithful heart. |
• Alas ! the old Pavilion has long since become one of the " Grand Hotels " of
its day, having been rebuilt and enlarged. Not long ago, wishing to register
permanently memories of his connection with the place, I wrote for the proprietors
a full account of the various incidents of this interesting relationship, adding a
reprint of his own vivacious sketch — this for the benefit of the guests. Nearly all
Dickens's Inns have thus found their chroniclers.
t A bust of Dickens by myself has been placed in the Municipal Museum at
Rue Beaurepaire, Boulogne.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It would take long and a vast deal of space to give
any idea of the reforming work done by Charles Dickens
in the pages of his journal. Nothing escaped him ;
the exposure or " gibbeting " was done in his o^vn
quietly sarcastic fashion, without verbiage, and alwa3's
hitting home. It is certain that his exposes set
forth with all his wit at least started the reform, for
his words were winged and figured in every paper. A
single specimen of his treatment would represent
innumerable others. In one of these cases of abuse
and hardship his vivid and sarcastic presentations
brought a remedy. This was called " A Poor Man's
Tale of a Patent," in which in a half-humorous, half-
pathetic strain he held up the cruel impediments that
beset the way of a humble inventor. This text he
enlarged and made more potent in one of his stories.
There was a special sort of article which used to
appear occasionally when some social abuse of a crying
sort appealed to the editor, and then indeed he spoke
out and brought all his sarcasm to bear. Witness this.
His friend, Alfred Wigan, a flourishing actor, noted for
his gentility both on and off the stage, quite above the
ranks of the trading actor, naturally thought he might
send his son to a select private school. The boy re-
mained some time, when the principal wrote to ask
his removal, as he had only just discovered that his
father was an actor ! This seems incredible nowadays,
so much have things changed ; but it was thought
nothing extraordinary then. But how Boz lashed
the principal with scorn and ridicule.
On December 24th, 1859, we find Leigh Hunt, a
Remonstrance. The autobiography had just been
issued by Leigh Hunt's son. Boz seized the oppor-
tunity to give much praise to the son's filial labour,
184
"HOUSEHOLD WORDS"
and at the same time offer a fresh vindication of himself
from the Skimpole charge, and this fresh renewal of it,
" and to the faults of which he has been accused."
He pleaded that " the gay and ostentatious wilfulness "
of Hunt's manner and " ways " tempted him, " God
forgive him," to make the little surface peculiarities of
his friend the garnishing, as it were, of one of his
figures. This was all. The character within was a
different thing, and had no connection with the
poet. Such was the defence, which seemed to most
a little slender. But it was a most strained, im-
possible situation ; there was no excuse to make.
"The thing was so," as the family put it. Nothing
could be said save what was "lame," and poor Boz
did his amiable best to make up for it. But now a
more serious annoyance had arisen, which led to a
crisis in the imder taking.
185
Ill
ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
'*A11 The Year Round"
CHAPTER XIII
THE " PERSONAL " DISPUTE.
EXTINCTION OP " HOUSEHOLD WORDS " AND
FOUNDING OF " ALL THE YEAR ROUND."
Charles Dickens had now been with his admiring
audience for close on five-and-twenty years. He was
bound to them and they to him by, as it were, two
stout, imperishable cables, to wit his triennial novel
and his weekly, never-flagging serial utterances in his
journal. These relations seemed likely to be strengthened.
Who then could have conceived or prophesied that in
the year of grace 1858 the whole fabric should have
begun to totter, and that a strange, sudden change
should have come about. This literally — I remember
it well — took away all our breaths. I can hardly
realise it now, so astonishing does it seem. Who could
have fancied that within a year the pleasantly recreative
little journal was to be abruptly done to death and
extinguished by its own creator, or that so disturbing
a revelation of his domestic life should have been
abruptly placed before the astonished public ?
On June 12th eager readers read with amaze-
ment on the front page a proclamation which he
addressed to the public relating ^to certain differences
with his wife, together with an announcement of their
separation ! Falsehoods and misrepresentations on this
189
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
head had, as he fancied, been circulated, and he took
this method of setting himself right Avith the world.
People were all but bewildered and almost stunned, so
unexpected was the revelation. Everj'one was for the
most part in supreme ignorance of what the document
could possibly refer to. It were idle to conceal that
there was a good deal of comment as to the propriety
of the appeal, and the genial author heard, perhaps for
the first time, his -WTitten utterances criticised with an
unpleasant candour. What did it all mean ? The
simple incident of incompatibility between husband
and wife, so common, too, between an author and an
author's wife, might have been lamented, and in the
absence of details would have been received with
sympathy ; but most extraordinary was the delusion
that all his readers had heard of some particular slander
that had grown out of the domestic trouble, the fact
being that nearly every one who had read the dark
allusion was in the completest ignorance.
This " Personal," as Edmund Yates tells us, had
been submitted to various friends. Forster and Mark
Lemon were strongly against its publication ; Yates
also took the same view. Indeed, it might be sup-
posed that there could be but one judgment on the
matter, at least as regards the WTiter's own interest.
Lemon's opposition was to be the cause of quarrel
between the friends.* Forster suggested that the
matter should be submitted to Mr. Delane, and this
gentleman unfortunatel}' gave his voice for publication.
• The estrangement between Dickens and Mark Lemon (then the Kditor of
Punch), brought about by this unfortunate affair, went on, says Mr. Kitton, " until,
years afterwards, Clarkson Stanfield on his death-bed besought Dickens to resume
friendship with the man with whom, after all, he had no cause for quarrel.
Dicken.s sent I^emon a kindly letter when ' Uncle Mark ' appeared as ' Falstall '
in amateur theatricals ; " and " when St.-infield was buried the two men " (says
Mr. M. H. Spielmann in his Uislory oj " Punch ") " clasped hands over his ojien
grave." On the death of Dickens some of the most touching and bejiutiful verse*
that over appeared in Punch were devoted to the novelist's memory.
190
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
But at this moment, as is well knoA\Ti, Dickens's
nerves were in a highly-wrought, over-strained condi-
tion. He saw things en noir, and had many anxieties.
The state of things at home had become unendurable.
He fancied that there were hostile rumours about.*
Every newspaper in the kingdom was, of course,
eager to reproduce the "Personal ; " they ought to have
been so, as it was his wish, and a most important piece
of neivs, and concerned one of the most eminent men
in the country. The one single exception — and there
was only one — was the journal of his own confidential
publishers, as they might be called, so closely were
they bound together where their interests were
concerned, who positivelj^ declined to admit it into
Punch. The plea urged was that it was incompatible
with the humorous character of the paper. An
important henchman in the service of Bradbury
and Evans, also editor of Punch, adAriser and
agent, was Mark Lemon, a rather weighty per-
sonality, one of those versatile and all-round men who
used to abound, for he was wTiter, actor, playA\Tight,
humorist, editor — all on an abundant scale. He had
also A\Titten a little in Household Words, and in 1857
had taken a part in Wilkie Collins's Frozen Deep at
Boz's little theatre. It was a surprise then shortly
after to find him confronting Dickens as adviser and
manager of Jlrs. Dickens's affairs in the unhappy dispute.
This must have engendered hostility ; and no doubt
Dickens attributed the exclusion of his " Personal "
from Punch to his baleful influence. Most natural, then,
that he should associate the firm with hostile or
* I will not reproduce this well-known " Personal " — it were needless and
painful to do so — and thus revive the distressful incident ; but it is impossible
in a History of his .Journals wholly to pass it by. The curious may look for it in
its original place.
19]
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
iinfriendly ideas.* The various stages in the strife that
followed were sad and tumultuous. The Dickens
household was to be divided. And now, strange
conjunction ! Household Words was also to be
" broken up," to be, in the words of a great iconoclast,
" smashed, pulverised, and utterly destroyed."
Amazing all this ! The unlucky, offending publishers
were also to be " made to smart." The sensitive
Dickens could not now endure to be any more associated
with them. This was natural in one so highly strung.
At any cost or any sacrifice they must go. Their share
in Household Words was only a quarter ; Dickens
practically held the other three-quarters. As they
refused to sell or give up this interest, Boz thought that
his greater share allowed him to do what he pleased,
even to the total destruction of the whole enterprise.
Sint ut sunt, aut non sint.
The proceedings that followed in the dispute with
Bradbury and Evans were very protracted, and spread
over nearly a whole year. The " Personal " article
appeared on June 12th, 185S, and it was not until May
of the following year that the destruction of the old
journal was accomplished. These must have been
agitating times — litigation going on in the Courts, the
publishers attempting to " restrain " the impulsive,
but determined Boz from " injuring their joint
property," as they considered it, by the announcement
of his resolve to extinguish the old journal. It was
said that the publishers had a project of buying
Household Words and offering the editorship to
Thackeray, but Dickens was not likely to have tolerated
this. He never for a moment relaxed his purpose, but
* What is convincing a3 to tlie likelihood of this speciilation is a vehcniont,
passionate letter of Dickons which was otTered for sale some years ago, in which
ho denounces in excited terras any member of his family who should even speak
to him of that connection.
192
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
strenuously and unflinchingly announced that he had
the power of doing what he pleased with his " own
paper," and that the Courts would, and must, decide
with him. And this proved to be actually the case.
This resolute attitude, evidently independent of legal
advice, was throughout characteristic of the man ; and
through his life he showed the same inflexibility once
he had adopted a particular course. At the same time it
was a period of intense agitation for him. He had his
own family troubles to deal with, which wi'ought upon his
over-strained nerves, and these had to be arranged and
composed. He had practically to begin a new life.
There was always a dogged determination roused
in Dickens when he felt that he had been unjustly
treated. He would not change, relax or compromise
until he had carried out his design ; nor could he
endure what are called " half measures." The injury,
it seemed to him, was so gross that he firmly settled
that he would shake himself free of Bradbury and Evans
for ever ; and perhaps he saw too that he would find
himself now in a position to do greater things when
he would be unshackled by the restraints of partner-
ship. With his usual firm sagacity he had gauged the
respective rights of the parties ; had made up his mind
that he was the virtual proprietor of the journal.
Further, that having extinguished the soi-disant
rights of the publishers, he would extinguish the
journal itself and start a new paper, uncontrolled and
unshackled, on its ruins. And this programme he was
enabled to carry out to the letter, the law eventually
supporting his views.
The law had now to decide between the disputants,
and on IMarch 26th the question was argued before the
.Master of the Rolls. The publishers had filed a bill
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
the dissolution of the partnership, and moved to
restrain the author from pubHshing notices that the
journal would be discontinued. Their case was set
forth in an appeal to the public, no doubt drawn up
by Mark Lemon, their henchman and adviser.*
The decision of the Court was practically that
the journal was to be set up to public auction
and sold for the benefit of the contending parties
according to their respective shares. Accordingly, as
stated, the property was sold on May 16th, 1859,
for a sum of £3,500. This was a really enormous sum
for an unproductive and now valueless object ; for the
aimouncement on the title-page of the new joui-nal
about to be started ("with which is incorporated
Household Words'") had no commercial value. The sum
became literally a charge on the new journal, and the
burden must have crippled him to a certain extent.
What courage must the intrepid conductor have had
thus to burn his boats and to play for such an
uncertain stake ! The circulation of the journal was
very great. Some years before this episode it was
stated in an American encyclopaedia that its circulation
in London alone was in one year ninety thousand
copies per week ! It seemed a perilous and delicate
matter to meddle with this growing property.!
So determined was the author on the course he was
• Sec Appendix A.
t When the sale of the Household Words was going on at Hodgson's, Forster
and Arthur Smith, with another friend of Dickens's, attended while IJickens waited
at home to hear the news of how the business had gone off. The friend was the
first to arrive at Wellington Street, and reported the successful issue. He
described, too, how admirably and judiciously Korster had behaved all through,
showing great firmness, coolness and promptitude. When Forster arrived in his
turn, Dickens good-naturedly repeated to him this praise. To whom Forster, in
his own admirable style, " Then I am sorry, my dear Dickens, that I cannot
reciprocate the comphmcnt, for a damneder a3s than your friend Mr. I never
met in all my life." The aiirpriae in this speech is truly original and diverting, to
say nothing of the invented, highly piquant comparalive. I have little doubt
that Mr. was Wills, between whom and Forster there was not much love lost.
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
to pursue, and so thoroughly made up was his mind,
that fully six months before his rights were settled by
law he was planning an entirely new journal, which was
to succeed the old Household Words. By the opening
of 1859 he was arranging all the details and discussing
a suitable name, a most important and yet embarrassing
point. " I shall never," he wrote to his friend Forster,
'■ be able to do anything for the work until it has a
fixed name," and he added that the same odd feeling
affects everybody else. His familiarity with and love
of Shakespeare made him once more turn to the bard.
" Don't you think," he wrote, " that this is a good
name and quotation ? I have been quite delighted
to get hold of it for our title : —
" Household Harmony.
" ' At last by notes of Household Harmony.' "
(Henry VI (Part iii.), Act iv. Sc. 6.)
The sagacious, " long-headed " Forster saw here
an awkwardness. The malicious would assuredly make
merry in their application of this title to the very
incident which had led to the establishment of the
new paper. It is characteristic of the author's eager,
sanguine temperament that he scarcely recognised the
objection. He disdained to take account of such
personal references, " otherwise it is manifest that I
never can write another story." This, however, was
a complete fallacy, and his friend eventually prevailed.
Innumerable other titles Avere suggested and
rejected, such as "The Hearth," "The Anvil," "The
Forge," "The Crucible," "The Anvil of the Time,"
" Charles Dickens's Own, " " Seasonable Leaves, "
" Evergreen Leaves, " " Home," " Home Music, "
''Change," "Time and Tide," "Twopence," "English
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Bells," "Weekly Bells," "The Rocket," "Good
Humour." Some of these were good and pretty,
many were bad. "The Hearth" and "The Forge"
were effective; "The Rocket" original and taking,
and might be a capital name for an evening paper of
our time ; " Twopence " was out of the question.
Some of these had been suggested for his older
journal. "The Anvil" he seemed to relish on both
occasions. At last, on January 28th, he WTote in great
delight that he had hit upon a title which he thought
" really admirable, especially with the quotation
before it " instead of after it, as in Household Words.
This was —
" The story of our lives from year to year." *
"All the Year Round.
A Weekly Journal conducted by
Charles Dickens."
And this was the one preferred.
It always has seemed an unfortunate selection —
barren, cumbersome, and inexpressive. Every serial,
indeed, everything in life, is an " all the year round "
one. One of his friends, 1 remember, suggested " The
Story of our Lives " or " From Year to Year," either of
which would have been better than the one chosen. His
own first inspiration was perhaps the best of all, and it
might have had a serious influence on the success of
the paper ; but All the Year Bound was never so
heartily relished as the older journal. The new title
had a pragmatical flavour and was uninteresting.
By February he had taken a new office, abandoning
the old, inviting, cosy, bow-windowed house, so long
• It is truly extraordinary that here again Dickens should have gone astray
in the text of his motto. The line is found in Act i. of Othello, and runs, " The
story of my Ufe from year to year."
ALL llli; VKAR ROUND" Ol'TlCK,
Xii. 'Jii W'lr.MNoTON Street, Strand.
" ALL THE YEAR ROUND "
associated with the old journal. His new home was
a rather ungainly edifice, No. 26, situated at the corner
of York Street. It never seemed inviting, being a shop
rather than an office. However, it was roomy, contained
plenty of accommodation, which the other house
lacked sadly, and it continued to be the office of All
the Year Round for over thirty years, until Charles
Dickens the younger, on the expiration of the lease,
gave it up to the owner.
On May 28th, 1859, appeared the last number of
the agreeable, interesting Household Words, which for
nearly ten years had so increased the harmless gaiety
of the nation. This date for its extinction he had
settled with singular accuracy long before, even while
the legal question was in suspense. The last paper
was called " An Executor." On the front page appeared
this address (the two journals were for a while running
together) : —
''All the Year Round.
" After the appearance of the present concluding
number of Household Words this publication will merge
into the new weekly publication All the Year Round,
and the title Household Words will form a part of the
title page of All the Year Roundy
And in another part of the new paper we read :
" On the day in which the final number bears date
the public will have read a great deal to the contrary " [i.e.
that he could not discontinue the journal], "and will
observe that it has not in the least affected the result."
In fact, so complete was the victory, that he could not
resist " rubbing it in," as it is called, and reminding
the pubhc that he was victorious "all along the line."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
A further proclamation described All the Year
Bound in these words : —
" Since this was issued the journal itself has come
into existence, and has spoken for itself five weeks. Its
fifth number is published to-day, and its circulation,
moderately stated, trebles that now relinquished in
Household Words.
" In referring our readers henceforth to All the Year
Round, we can but assure them afresh of our unweary-
ing and faithful service in what is at once the work and
chief pleasure of our life. Through all that we are doing,
and through all that we design to do, our aim is to do
our best in sincerity of purpose and true devotion of
spirit.
" We do not for a moment suppose that we may
lean on the character of these pages and rest contented
at the point where they stop. We see in that point
but a starting-place on our new journey, and on that
journey, with new prospects opening out before us
everywhere, we joyfully proceed, entreating our readers
— without any of the pain of leave-taking incidental
to most journeys— to bear us company All the Year
Rounds
Yet another proclamation : —
" Nine years of Household Words are the best
practical assurance that can be offered to the public
of the spirit and objects of All the Year Round.
" In transferring myself and my strongest energies
from the publication that is about to be discontinued
to the publication that is about to begin, I have the
happiness of taking with me the staff of writers with
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
whom I have laboured and all the literary and business
co-operation that can make my work a pleasure. In
some important respects I am now free greatly to
advance on past arrangements. Those I leave to
testify for themselves in due course.
" That fusion of the graces of the imagination with
the realities of life, which is vital to the welfare of the
community, and for which I have striven from week
to week as honestly as I could during the last nine
years, wU continue to be striven for All the Year Round.
" The old weekl}'^ cares and duties become things
of the past, merely to be assumed with an increased
love for them, and brighter hopes springing out of them
in the present and the future.
" I look and plan for a very much wider circle of
readers, and, yet again, for a steadily expanding circle
of readers, in the projects I hope to carry through All
the Year Round, and I feel confident that this expecta-
tion will be realised if it deserve realization.
" The task of ray new journal is set, and it will
steadily try to work the task out.
" Its pages shall show to what good purpose their
motto is remembered in them, and with how much of
fideUty they tell
" ' The story of our lives from year to year.'
" Charles Dickens."
It is curious to find that among the experimental
titles suggested for the new journal was " Once a Week,"
the one actually adopted by the firm with whom he
was at variance, for the journal which they Avere pre-
sently to start in opposition to his. There can be no
reasonable explanation offered for this, unless he had
himself good-naturedly suggested it to them as a
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
solution. Puzzling also was it that in his first Part
was actually found bound up the appeal and prospectus
of his late partners, announcing a rival magazine.
Here was a bizarre combination which had an odd
effect. They might be entitled, imtil its extinction,
to a place in the journal, or it may be that they were
allowed it by Dickens's good-humoured courtesy. Here
was the announcement of the new competing venture ;
" Once a Week.
A Miscellany of Literature, Art, Science and
popular information.
To be illustrated by Leech, Tenniel, Millais, Hablot
Bro\me, C. Keene, Wolf, etc.
To be published every Saturday, price 3d."
The first number Avas to appear on July 2nd, 1859.
It was to offer serial tales, etc. For the pictorial
illustration Leech undertook " all practical arrange-
ments." Writers were " to have the option of signing
their contributions." This reads oddly nowadays,
when it might run, " Writers will have the option of
concealing their names." There was to be " liberal
compensation," and the public were assured that as
the venture was " a new combination," its directors,
" free from the disability of clique, are ready and even
solicitous to enlist aspiring talents." (Was this aimed
at their late partner ?) It may be said, however, that
no journal of the kind could be successfully conducted
apart from the system of clique, that is of a " school "
or staff. But nothing was to illustrate more forcibly
the fallacy of fancying that lavish outlay and imitation
of methods Avill secure success than this futile attempt.
The publishers were speedily to find that they could not
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
bend the Dickensian bow. Once a Week was destined
to be a costly failure. They supposed that a vast
outlay on pictures, designs, etc., with the engagement
of first-class artists and engravers, superior writers, and
so on, would carry the day. From the very first — and
I know its history, having contributed a good deal to
it — it might be called a failure. No one was much
interested, though all admired the artistry of the thing.
It was a correct, satisfactory, but uninteresting venture,
and gave Boz not a moment's uneasiness.
To start .4/? the Year Round with all eclat, the " star "
writer himself came forward and " led off " with a new
story, comparatively short in its length and develop-
ment, namely his " Tale of Two Cities." The treatment
was purposely dramatic, and became very attractive
to the public. To such tales of half the old length
he now began rather to incline, being not such a strain
upon his powers as the old form. When starting his
venture this extraordinary man had on his hands the
dissolution of his household, the destruction of his
joiu"nal, the planning and establishment of a new one,
a law suit, and an entirely " fresh spring," as his own
Jlicawber would say, in the shape of a semi-theatrical
introduction of himself and his ^\Titings to the public !
No wonder that he was fretted, " moidered," and
heartsore. But almost triumphantly did he emerge
from all these trials, without having, in popular slang,
" turned a hair." He could hardly be said to have
suffered. It would be interesting to discuss here
whether this new system of " rmming " one of his
" full-dress " stories, as they might be called, through
his weekly paper was as profitable or suitable a method
for his interests as the old mensual one. As we have
seen, this weekly issue made and entailed a different
201
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
system of wTiting, that is, the presenting liimself to a
different kind of audience, whose tastes he had to suit,
for he had to make some four distinct appeals, repeated
strokes, instead of the former single monthly one.
This required quite different fashioning and treatment.*
The second article in All the Year Round was
" How to be Healthy, Wealthy and Wise." There
were also some new features, such as the " Occasional
Register," short notes and comments on curious topics,
with a series of facetious scraps, " Wanted," " Found,"
etc. Thus, there was " Wanted " "an original EngUsh
play of any description within the limits of the United
Kingdom," and there was " Found " " an immense
flock of gulls to believe in preposterous advertisements."
Later came " The Poor Man and his Beer," by Dickens
himself, and a long topographical series by Thornbury,
" Haunted London," afterwards published in a volume.
This no doubt led him to undertake the more serious
and important work issued by the Cassells, Old and
New London, in six volumes, which he did not live
to complete. Later again Boz's son-in-law, Charles
Collins, began the series of " The Eye-witness," an
amusing set. With all these efforts to give a novel
and original air to the new venture, it could be said
that there was nothing particularly striking about
it. It seemed to lack the tranquil unaffected simplicity
of the old journal. Perhaps the vein had been somewhat
worked out.
On November 26th, 1859, "The Tale of Two
Cities," begun in April, 1859, came to its conclusion,
* Mr. Lehmann (p. 261) (urnishca an abstract of the chief provisions of tho
partnership agreement as to All the Year Round : (1) Dickens and Wills to be the
proprietors ; (2) Dickens was to receive three-fourths of the profits ; (3) and to
be J>litor nt a salary of £500 ; (4) Wills to be C.enoral Manager, wth a commercial
control, subject in certain conditions to Dickens ; (5) as Sub-Editor to receive
£420 : (6) should Wills resign his office ho was to retain an eighth share ; (7) the
name of tho paper, the Good Will, etc., to be solely Diokens's.
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
and after the words " The End " we read these
words : —
" We purpose always to reserve the first place in
these pages for a continuous original work on fiction,
engaging about the same amount of time on its serial
publications as that which is now completed. The
second story of our series we now beg to introduce to
the attention of our readers. It will pass next week
into the station hitherto occupied by the ' Tale of Two
Cities,' and it is our hope and aim, while we work hard
at every other department of our journal, to produce
in this one some sustained works of imagination that
may become a part of English literature."
Here was an announcement of the new policy, and
showed the growing and encroaching influence of
fiction. It does seem, indeed, as though the taste
for slight sketches and didactic lessons set forth
humorously, like Mr. Stiggins's moral " Pocket-
handkerchiefs," had somewhat weakened.
And here was the modest introduction of what was
to prove to be one of his greatest cowps — though he did
not forecast it — namely, the powerful, if melodramatic,
story of " The Woman in White," by Wilkie ColUns,
which accordingly set forth on its triumphal progress
on November 26th, 1859.
The new journal and its story was received with
extraordinary favour. He could presently report to
his friends that in a single month no less than 35,000
" back numbers " had been sold. The circulation far
exceeded that of its predecessor. When the first
quarterly account was made out it was found that it
had repaid its proprietor all his outlay with five per
cent, interest, and there was a balance of £500. Here
was a fitting reward for his bold and spirited enterprise !
By and by, however, there was near being a catastrophe.
203
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
In August it had been thought something of a
coicp to^secure the ^^vacious Lever, or Harry Lorrequer,
whose mercurial style was certain to carry the readers
with him. I recall the joyous starting, the very original
opening, the anticipated enjoyment of the editors.
Alas ! presently the fires went out altogether ; the
author seemed to tire of his work, and it was found
presently that the readers also were tiring of him.
The fact was that the gay and careless pseudo-Irishman
(for Lever was an Englishman born and bred) had
brought the journal into very parlous straits. The
" circulation " was beginning to fall, always a significant
and disturbing signal, and the situation soon became
rather alarming. But Boz, resourceful always, was un-
daunted. " I called a council of war at the office on
Tuesday," he WTote to Forster (October 4th, 1860).
" It was perfectly clear that the one tiling to be done
was for me to strike in. I have therefore decided to
begin the story as of the length of the ' Tale of Two
Cities ' on the first of December — begin publishing,
that is. I must make the most I can out of the book.
. . . . The name is ' Great Expectations.' I think
a good name." Two days later he ^\Tote in further
explanation : " The sacrifice of ' Great Expectations '
is really and truly made for myself. The property of
All the Year Round is far too valuable, in every way, to
be much endangered. Our fall is not large, but we have
a considerable advance in hand of the story we are
now publishing, and there is no vitality in it, and no
chance whatever of stopping the fall, which on the
contrary would be certain to increase. Now, if I went
into a twenty-number serial, I should cut oflf my power
of doing anything for the journal," and so on.
I must confess that there seems to be much of
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
Lever's buoyant humour in parts of the unpopular
story, such as the grotesque diplomatist who would
rename his subordinates ; but it was out of date, old
fashioned, and above all, unsuited to a sober congre-
gation. Dickens, moreover, saw that it would not do.
Although it was not a year since he had furnished
his last story to the magazine, he began at once to
prepare another, and in the last week in October, ] 860,
issued the following announcement : " A new work, by
Mr. Charles Dickens, will be commenced — a new serial
story — to begin on December 1st, to be completed in
about four months." " Great Expectations " was to
prove to be a work of great charm and special attraction
for readers, its success being probably owing to the
ardour and high pressure under which it was conceived.
But the drollest part of the incident was that the
supplanted writer was not to be so disposed of. It is
impossible to make an author conclude or wind up his
story against his will. He might plead that his story
will not give him leave to do so, and that he was
helpless. Curiously " Harry Lorrequer " kept to his
post week after week actively for five long months,
finishing in March, 1861.
It was a most fortunate result that " Great
Expectations " — there can be no doubt of it — added
greatly to Dickens's already great reputation. It was
indeed a quite new departure, and as he explained to
his friend and confidant, he wished to revive his old
unHcensed humour, and this he actually did with
happiest result and effect.*
* It was afterwards issued in the orthodox three-volume shape. This, with
Oliver Twist, was the only work of Dickens that appeared in this shape. Collectors
and dealers find it all but impossible t ■ meet three volumes of the same " set "
and equally impossible to get clean copies. This is curiously accounted for by the
f.ict that they were " in circulation " at the hbraries, and consequently too well
thumbed and dirtied. The volumes of the set became mixed, and could not be
" matched " again, as single volumes were given out to readers.
205
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
As we read of these things — the huge difficulties
surmounted and his brilhant devices — we must j-et
more and more admire our author's capable and re-
sourceful spirit and his unbounded energies. During
the whole twenty years' service he was the toiling, never-
flagging workman, ever at his post. He never delegated
to others. Thackeray very soon tired of his editorship.
Dickens never even sank into the conventional "rut"
or dull, habitual course. His busy fancy and inv^ention
were always at work with new devices and plans. I must
repeat that without these volumes no one can have an
idea of his true character and what he did in his life.
With the change in the form of the old journal there
was now to be noted a change in the character of its
contents. The new venture seemed to be less personal
and to concede more to the humour of the times. There
was less of the one prevailing tone ; the old tranquil,
home-like flavour gave place to one more conventional.
This, it may be suspected, was owing to a lack of
interest in its director, who, perhaps a little fatigued
by his nine years' labours, was now absorbed in his
laborious " Readings," and was obliged occasionally,
at least, to leave the routine duties to others, not that
he in the least relaxed in his efforts. He continued —
as I know from evidence of my own proofs — to select
and correct diligently with the old care ; packets of
printed matter followed him about ; but the treatment
was hardly so minute as before. However this may
be, the All the Year Round is less attractive than its
predecessor, though " more up to date."
But now came a disturbing element abroad which
he could not ignore. Thackeray had long been before
the town, and "Vanity Fair" had won its success
some years before Household Words had appeared. But
" ALL THE YEAR ROUND "
now thirteen j'ears had passed, and there could be no
question but that the newer ^^Titer was steadily gaining.
He had the advantage that his style and treatment were
directl}' opposed to that of Dickens — more of a novelty,
too. Boz all this time may have had suspicion of
some coming venture likely to interfere with his own,
but it must have been a shock at least when he learnt
that his " rival " or opponent was actually coming
down into the open field to confront him with a magazine
of his ow-ti. This speedily took important commercial
shape. It was a pubhshers' venture ; they were well
found in means, and were likely to make it a flourishing
undertaking. The Cornhill magazine was accordingly
started on the old magazine lines, with additions after
Dickens's pattern, such as the serial story and the
personal, confidential article called " Roundabout
Papers." The coincidence of the " rival " magazines
can be shown by dates, and is rather remarkable.
Dickens's second journal made its first appearance on
April 30th, 1859, and just eight months later, in January,
1860, the orange covers of the Cornhill were seen on
the stalls.*
It was now difficult for the public not to contrast
the two men as editors. We have seen, and are still
seeing, what a " whole-souled " editor he was. It is
notorious the " rival " was of a rather cold and self-
contained sort. He put nothing of his personality
into the body of the thing, but reserved the interest
for the special " full-dress " display of himself in
the " Roundabout " article, where he posed as the
pleasant cynic. He took little or no trouble about the
rest, except consulting or suggesting in a general way.
• In another book. The Lift: of Charhs Dichens, rereakd in his Works, I have
shown in detail how strangely Thackeray adopted and adapted passages and ideas
from Boz's stories.
207
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
It was, in fact, a magazine on the old plan, but it had
an extraordinary success, as I well remember — a
new editor and \vriter, the new novelist, and the new
format. There could be no doubt it was altogether
a most agreeable production, and well "up to
date," and I could imagine Boz rather ruefully
contemplating his oavti somewhat conventional journal,
to which he had struggled so hard to impart something
novel, with this effect only —
" Plus 9a change, plus c'est la meme cliose,"
which might be rendered —
" Go ! change and change your little game :
Change as you will, 'twill be the same."
I do not propose to follow the whole ten years'
covirse of All the Year Bound in detail, for the reason
that it was more rather than less conventional, and
had not exhibited the old, free Dickensian flavour.
It followed on the usual magazine lines — perhaps was
compelled to do so. I may say I took a great share
in it, suggesting subjects, -smting many a long three-
volume novel,* going on special missions to Rome and
other places when there was anything of interest on
foot; such as the completion and opening of Cologne
Cathedral, after some hundred years interruption, a
picturesque spectacle. During this period I did nothing
but write for the paper and cultivate my intimacy with
its genial director.
* Here wag some of ray heavier literary baggage : Never Forgotten, a novel in
three volumes ; The Second Mrs. Tillolson, in three volumes ; The Dear Girl, in
two volumes ; The Bridge of Sighs, one volume ; Howard's Son, one volume ;
Tatal Zero, one volume ; Roman Candles, one volume, etc.
208
CHAPTER XIV
SIR E. BULWER LYTTON'S NOVEL
But presently the conductor was preparing a coup of a
very bold and striking kind. This he fondly imagined
would give a powerful impulse to the progress of his
journal — a bold " spring forward " — that would repair
deficiencies. The idea was well conceived, though it
was to prove unsuccessful. Of late he had been renewing
relations with an old and distinguished contemporary,
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, who had recently risen,
as it were, from a sort of oblivion and old fashion,
and entered on a fresh course of popularity. This
eminent novelist, politician, poet, satirist, di-amatist,
orator — rare combination of gifts — would surely bring
prestige and profit to the journal, to say nothing of the
brilliant combination. He proceeded, accordingly, to
plan the arrangement. The whole makes a most
interesting literary episode, and I propose to set it
out in this place, having in my possession all the
materials.*
All through this gifted pair were associated in a very
interesting way, starting on their course together,
almost at the same moment, of nearly the same age,
and both capturing the town when each was no more
than twenty, with a novel of extraordinary spirit and
brilliancy, one with Pelham and the other with
* The interesting correspondence that follows on the subject of the story —
interesting from the occasion and co-operation of two such writers — came into
my possession many years ago. vSir Edward's portion at least has never been
oublished.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Pickwick the immortal. Both were to have most
successful careers as novehsts, and belonged to the
great quartet of story-tellers which distinguished
the Victorian Era, namely Bulwer Lytton, Dickens,
Thackeray, and Charles Reade. They might be said
to have all but lost sight of each other.
At the end of the j^ear 1860 Boz, as we have seen,
had been \vriting what some have held to be one of
his greatest stories, " Great Expectations," and had
been burdened with Lever's "broken-down" "A Day's
Tour," whose close he seemed to herald with a sort of
exultation, announcing in special capitals that it would
be concluded on such a day ! It was at this crisis that
he bethought him of his old friend. He had learned
that he Avas actually busy with a romance, and at once
applied to him for his assistance. His friend responded
cordially, clearly feeling that sucli an alliance would be
of great advantage to both. Dickens, ever sanguine and
generously enthusiastic, was perfectly enchanted, and
broke into a sort of rapture of enthusiasm, which was
to be long sustained. Alas ! he was to be presently — as
he was so often — disillusioned.
At that time Bulwer Lytton was a strangely reserved
and altogether remarkable man, but most interesting
and even romantic. I was privileged to know him, to
talk with him. He was ever a sort of patron to me in
literary matters, and — I say it at the risk of ridicule —
he was actually a very cordial admirer of what I wrote.
I never sought his appreciation or inflicted my stories
on him ; but he was a rather promiscuous,
omnivorous reader, and read most of the current
things that came from the press.
The author expected to be ready to start his story
in the July or August of 186L Artist as he was, he
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
had stipulated with his friend that he was not to begin
to read the work until a substantial portion had been
printed. " I swear," cried the generous Dickens,
" that I never thought I had half so much self-denial
as I have shown in this case." In May he read the
sheets, and, as he told his friend, " I coidd not lay them
aside last night, but was obliged to go on with them
in my bedroom, until I got into a very ghostly state
indeed."
It is surprising that it did not occur to him that
his new client would be scarcely suited to the rather
sober tastes of readers of his journal. Now
Sir Edward, it was well known, had strange, exaggerated
views of a personal kind as to " psychic force,"
supernatural dealings, and the like, and seems to have
showTi that he had a strong faith in such matters.
This might give his friend pause. It was astonishing
that so sagacious a judge as Boz did not at once see the
unsuitability for the audience of a tale founded on
such Utopian dreams and speculations.
Dickens, however, continued so eagerly enthusiastic
in his project that these objections never occurred to
him. Soon all was settled. As the proofs came in
due course to Dickens he could scarcely restrain his
raptures of applause. It is not surprising, however,
that even to the author, when the proofs passed before
him, the dark, Rosicrucian cast of his narrative now
began to suggest doubts. These he even suggested to
his friend and editor ; but the eager Dickens was not
to be daunted, and reassiired his friend in almost
rapturous terms.
" I am delighted," he \^Tote on January 23rd, 1861,
" to receive vour letter, and look forward to have such
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
a successor in August. I can honestly assure you that
I never have been so pleased at heart in all my literary
life as I am in the proud thought of standing side by
side with you before this great audience. I have
perfect faith in such a master hand as yours. I know
that what such an artist feels to be terrible and original
is unquestionably so. You whet my interest by what
you wTite of it to the utmost extent." Then turning
to the Rosicrucian doubts : " As to the question
whether there is any foundation for the misgiving, I do
not share it in the least. Readers who had given their
minds, or perhaps had any to give, to these strange,
psychological mysteries in ourselves, will accept your
wonders as curious weapons in the armoury of fiction,
and will submit themselves to the art with which said
weapons are used."
And again : —
12th May.
" Of the beauty and power of the writing I say nto
a word, or of its originality and boldness, or of its quite
extraordinary constructive skill. I confine myself
solely to your misgiving. 1 say without hesitation
most decidedly there is not sufficient foundation for it."
He believed that readers would submit themselves to
his art. The narrations in such skilful hands would
overpower them. If he was the magician's servant
things would get the better of liim, but being a magician
himself, etc. Further, he seriously impressed upon
his friend that it was very desirable "to have these
points presented to the reader's mind," namely that the
audience is good enough for anything that is well
presented to it. But he urged him to avoid notes and
get their substance into the text, as the " audience
would scarcely understand them."*
• It must bo said that the notion of notes to a story was a most disngrceable
trial for the reader. Such references as, say, " See Lipaiua, cap" so and so, and
followed by a recondite discussion, had the queerett air, and was enough to frighten
away any save the student.
212
"ALL THE YEAE ROUND"
By January, 1801, all was settled. The story was
to be read}' in August. All through the negotiations
Dickens showed himself truly generous as he was
impulsive, and perfectly lavish in his praises. By
the end of April he had written to Sir Edward,
warning him to be ready by the last week in July.
" Everything favoured, as ' Great Expectations ' had
been most successful in its run," and opened the way.
So eager was he to have the proofs that he hurried the
printers on. He spoke of the beauty and power of
the wTiting. He then suggested that " A Romance "
should be a sub-title, for he had an exquisite flaire for
such delicacies. But he did not quite like the title,
" Dr. Fenwick, a Strange Story," and suggested a
few others, such as " The Steel Casket," " The Lost
MS.," " Derval Court," " Perpetual Youth," " Maggie,"
" Dr. Fenwick," " Life and Death." The four last he
thought the best. Still, Dr. Fenwick suggested " Dr.
Antonio, a Popular Novel." " Fenwick " was not
startling enough, but the title must be settled at
once.
The hints and suggestions of this practised, well-
skilled story-teller were well worth considering, for, as he
said, " by dint of necessity and practice he had become
rather cunning in arranging chapters, etc." There
should be no title for the toAvn — the scene of action —
but the author might state at the opening that he gave
the to^vTi a fictitious name, as he himself actually did in
Edwin Drood. He added this acute remark : " I suppose
a blank or a dash rather fends a good many people off ;
it alwaj's has that effect on me." Again he fell into
praises : " The story a fine one, such as no other man
could WTite." Recurring to the title, he said.
Margrave, a Tale of Mystery,' would be sufficiently
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
striking. I prefer ' Wonder ' to ' Mystery,' because
I think it suggests something higher and more apart
from ordinary compUcations of plot or the Uke, whicli
' Mystery ' might seem to mean." (This title was
certainly better than the one chosen.) " Will you
kindly remark that" the title presses, and that it
will be a great relief to have it as soon as possible."
We can fancy what a trial this nervous, uncertain,
fidgeting man was to'| his friend Boz, dreaming
over his great work, and thinking the change of a
single word all important.
And again, towards the end of December, 1861, he
wrote : "I have read, and I say most masterly and
most admirable ! It is impossible to lay the sheets
down without finishing them. I showed them to
Georgina and Mary, and they read and never stirred
till they had read all. There cannot be a doubt of the
beauty, power and artistic excellence of the whole."
He cautions him against giving " explanations beyond
the title-page and motto unless it may be in a very
brief preface."
It is sad to say that all this panegyric was altogether
delusive ! Boz, in a strong fit of regard and admiration,
had persuaded himself into believing that his friend
had contrived all these marvels of genius. They are
not really present. Tiie work is very much in the slow-
moving, ponderous style of "The Disowned," being
sadly dull and far-fetched, which proves that the
author's instincts were a little confused and faint. Very
interesting and instructive also are the discussions that
followed between these experienced " hands " on points
of treatment relating to their craft. Thus we find
Bulwer writing, as in time his doubts as to the interest
of the subject recurred : —
214
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
April 2nd, 1861.
My dear Dickins,*
I am just returned to England. Now that the first
ardour is cooled I have some doubts as to the effect of
my tale on the public, and I should like you and perhaps
Forster to jud.se ; for if it should be of questionable
popularity or effect, I should have come between this and
then, and \\Tite another. Would it too much lock up your
type to print a good portion of it — on slips — to be kept
by for the present, on the condition, of course, that if
it be not used I pay the expense of the printing ? If
it would lock up your type too much, I might still make
use of your printer. I think it is scarcely possible to
judge of a doubtful work in MS. My doubts are not as
to the force of the wTiting, but the nature of the subject.
The leading philosophical idea is this . . . To show
what the results would be if he had possessed physical
power in a degree even more than ordinarily human
but without soul, and so tend to prove the relation
of soul to human organisation. In the way in which
this is treated much of what is called the supernatural
is employed. But in order to render this supernatural
element more probable, the tale is told by a sceptical
medical man, who wi-estles against the images pre-
sented to him, and who balances the doubt which he
keeps constantly before the reader even if all these
are not delusions of his own fancy and cheats of the
senses. The incidents and misconceptions are original.
The whole may go too much against the grain of the
reader. It is my object to give you as good a thing
for your paper as I can Avrite, and my fear is that it
may not exactly suit so wide an audience. I think if
one could get a third printed off one could judge this
at once. I have not yet seen the journal since I left
England. I shall have to do so when I get to
London.
* It will be seen that this strange being had not yet learned even the correct
spelUng of his old friend's name, as well as that of the deputy. There is something
farcical in this " Dickins " and " Willes." (See p. 216.) It must have given Boz
a hearty laugh.';
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Here was a disquieting programme and a strange
foundation for a story. IMoreover, it must have been
rather worrying for Boz to find himself involved with this
uncertain and " fidgety " man. It will be seen what
a state of doubt the author continued in, as to whether
the " occult " subject would be acceptable or " go
down," though Dickens did what he could to dispel
his anxieties. But the author was to prove to be right,
the other's kindly sympathies leading him astray.
Another difficulty for all concerned must have been
the hopeless scrawl, utterly undecipherable without
infinite pains and trouble, his letters becoming a
ceaseless puzzle. His correspondence continues:
My deak Dickins,
I wrote to Willes to request the advertisement to
substitute Author of " IMy Novel," etc., for my Name.
I think it was understood and agreed — I never do put
my Name to my Novels on their first appearance. But
it comes to exactly the same thing, if it be put by the
Author of Books which the Public knows to be mine.
Would it not be well to change the day of Meeting
for the Guild from Monday 17th on which day you
know you will be with me. T expect you Saturday
15th by 5 o'clock Train from King's C^oss — with Miss
Hogarth and Miss Dickins {sic). I will send the Carriage
to meet you, and I trust you will at least stay over
Wednesday. I have asked a few pleasant people to
meet you, and also some agreeable Country Neighbours
to come and dine. I am hard at work on Fenwick, the
earlier part of which I shall entirely rewrite. I shall
give Willes the 1st No. on Saturday if he call. I fear
it will be long, but it ought to have the end it now has
after Dr. Lloyd's Deathbed, which I have, I think,
heightened and improved.
Yours ever,
E. B. L.
216
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
Thnrsdaj' Night.
Would you like some other of your children to
come ? I have plenty of room.
The name of the novel was still unsettled. Boz
must have been distracted by his friend's uncertainty
and hesitation in the matter.
My" dear Dickins,
I am writing my view as to sketching in a new
character or so, and I think improving and heightening
the intent — according to your hints. I suspect I have
done a little more than one additional number ; com-
mencing very early No. 2. I am not satisfied with
" Margrave, a Tale of Wonder," but have been inces-
santly racking my brains for a better. The only 3
worth sending you out of a large number that as yet
have occurred to me are 1st :
" A Strange Story."
By the Author of
" My Novel," " Rienzi," etc.
" A Strange Story " has some advantages. I have
precedent in the " Simple Story," it is modest and
quiet ; suggests much and reveals nothing.
2nd, " Margrave, or the Criminous Shadow" (!).
A tale by, etc.
3rd, " The Seekers,"
A Romance by, etc.
I might add that I don't like it much.
" Is and Is Not."
A tale by, etc.
And again: —
My dear Dickixs,
Your packet received and shall be attended. Did
you read from " Australian " to end, and will the
Catastrophe do ? My queries here would be these —
217
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
whether Fenwick should be allowed to grow old and
Isabel die. For the meaning of the story these seemed
to me necessary.
My idea at present of general alterations would be
1st to enlarge on Fenwick's early love to Isabel ;
scenes and dialogues before Margrave's appearance ;
and make Vigor somehow present to them. Vigor
might speak of Louis Groyle, of his strange death, etc.,
and prepare reader for Margrave, as well as serve to
dispense with Groyle's story to Sir P. Duval.
Thus 2 Numbers might be added.
Doubtful if Margrave should be introduced to
Isabel, and scenes between him, Fenwick, Isabel, short.
I propose at present to retain all the particulars that
lead Fenwick on.
The opening chapters were looked for, of course, wtli
interest and curiosity. Dickens presently was %vriting
to the author that " the circulation was maintained,*
Forster enormously impressed." Then came more
amiable compliments. " I am burning to get at the
whole story, and you inflame me in the maddest manner
by your reference to what I don't know. The exquisite
touches with which the changes had been made fairly
staggered me."
At last the great venture, so much debated and
prepared for, was ready, and the first portion issued
on August 10th, 1861. At first there was the interest
which was to be expected, the circulation was increased,
and the story debated and talked of.f All the
hoardings and the walls flamed out with the orange
and red placards in more than their usual profusion.
But it " would not do." The public could not stand
* The news that " the circulation was maintained " was scarcely encouraging,
but I fancy Koz meant that an increased circulation, announced to be some
1,500 copies, had not gone down.
+ I fancy the price the author received was no more than £1,000 " for passage
through the journal." More would not have " paid " the Editor.
218
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
the dreary Rosicrucian wanderings and meditations,
and poor Dickens was once more to be disappointed.
Here were two successive failures. The " Strange
Story " had to pursue its weary course, and the
Editor continuously to assure his public that it
really would " end in IMarch." In that month, to
the relief of everybody, it was finished. It seriously
affected the circulation, and no wonder ; for what
could be expected when the author would supply notes
with quotations from " the great Newton " and other
recondite writers on mysterious subjects. Nay, he
would add a special " note " to expound some obscure
passage that had gone before, and which he fancied
had been misunderstood by his readers. This in a
novel ! But where were Boz's early raptures now ?
He had only repeatedly to announce that Wilkie
(^ollins was at hand with his new story.
219
CHAPTER XV
THE author's serials
It will be seen from the details I have been
giving that I was deep in " the secrets of the Prison
House," and most familiar with all the workings and
mysteries of the enterprise. Both the Editor and hi?
deputy would confidentially reveal to me their various
plans and purposes. But my own share in the
enterprise, I may be allowed to say, was on an
important scale, and scarcely one of the whole
following contributed nearly as much.
A single serial in an important magazine is a great
promotion for the contributor. It proves that there
is a belief in the directing mind that he has both
power and promise, and is therefore likely to attract.
If he be untried, it proves the editor's faith, for there is
the risk of failure and of damage to the magazine.
But it is rare that the favoured contributor is ofifered
a second opening or re-appearance. Such untried
hands sometimes do respectably, but more often fail,
and in such case are not again invited ; but even in
cases of fair success, the editor is disinclined to renew
the experiment, as he is looldng for variety. Dickens's
system, however, was to find a writer whose style and
treatment quite suited the peculiar taste of his readers,
and then he was glad to open the door to him for a
second trial. But here again he sometimes was
sadly disappointed. Once there was an admirable
220
" ALL THE YEAR ROUND "
short story in several " portions," which absolutely
enchanted him, and which he enthusiastically invited
his friends to read and admire as much as he
did. It was called " The Tale of Aunt Margaret's
Trouble," and was indeed a most artistic performance,
describing incidents of a domestic kind, and written
by a lady. This was looked upon as a huge " find,"
and the authoress was speedih^ commissioned to WTite a
novel on the larger scale, and a longue haleine. It
proved, however, that she had not the " staying
power," and the result was certainly a failure.
As I said before, a single serial was a handsome
compliment ; yet in course of time I came to write
no less than five or six, my last beginning on the
very eve of Dickens's death. It may be that there is
no other writer who has thus written what may be
termed a series of serials, and for the same editor
and paper.* I may indeed add, and I hope it will
not be thought vainglorious, but I really believe that
I was a sort of resoiurce, and kept in reserve ; for
I find Dickens, when he was in a difficulty as to a
suitable story, ^vTiting to his assistant, " Perhaps
Fitzgerald has something ready by him."t
It was in the same speculative way that Wilkie
Collins was found and brought forward. He had pro-
duced a short novel, "The Dead Secret," which showed
much of his mystical power, and attracted, and so
was called in to renew the flagging interest with
his once famous "Woman in White." This happy
co7(p did wonders for the magazine, and the weekly
* For these productions, aa I calculate, I must have received about £2,000, no
inferior guerdon for a comparatively obscure WTiter. Boz was indeed the moat
liberal of men. He insisted on paying, even for articles that he did not make u-^e of.
Once, when I positively declined tliis bounty, he sent me a full set of all his works.
t In Mr. Lehmann's work.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
portions were read — " devoured " almost — with an
absorbing interest. It was, of course, followed up by
others, "No Name," "Armadale," etc.
Now I think I may rather plume m3-self on the fact
that I and this popular novelist were the only two
A^Titers who during that long span of twenty years
were repeatedly called upon to furnish stories, and
that I really supplied as many serials as did my gifted
coadjutor. I was, besides, all the time supplementing
the serials with innumerable papers on all and
every occasional subject. It was certainly a season of
amazing exertion and activity, but what a delightful
one ; and all the while was going on the pleasant inner
life, with repeated " Come down to us at Gads " — so he
would abbreviate—" and bring a bag with you."
A wonderful piece of fortune led to the supplying of
my first serial. I once begged of him as a favour to let
me " try my hand." " To be sure," he cried, and I
did so accordingly in a one-volume shape. He sent
it ofif to the printers without reading it, so as " to
give it every chance." But it would not exactly
suit. I must try again ; and the good-natured Editor
added, "As you have it all in type now, it will
be easier to arrange for it." However, my appearance
in the coveted columns of the journal was not long
delayed. A story called Bella Donna had made some
impression, and had reached its second edition. Boz,
who was eminently receptive of anything novel, was
much pleased with it. The heroine was a sort of
" Becky Sharpe," and I carried her safely through no
less than three separate novels, Bella Donna, Jenny
Bell, and Seventy-five Brooke Street. Jenny's death at
the close, I was told by Dickens, affected him deeply,
and " struck him as one of the most powerful things
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
he had read for long," as he told a friend. It is a risk
mentioning such a thing, but I must record it, for
such a man's praise is worth recording.
It was a dehghtful and encouraging day when
I found myself promoted, and formally commis-
sioned to supply a " full dress " story. Everything
was done to encourage, and five hundred pounds
promised. I set to work to devise a plot, a most
difficult, nervous thing ; but then was I not assured
of the vigilant co-operation of our inspired chief ?
The idea occurred to me of two sisters, one the
watchful guardian of the younger one, the precious
jewel of her eye, but whose affections were gained
by an artful Philanderer, who grew tired of her, and left
her to waste away and die. The plot then turned on
the reckless efforts of the survivor to hunt down and
punish the murderer, as she thought him.*
The interesting points were the consultations with
the Editor. First the outhne of the plot was submitted,
debated, and improved ; then a goodly portion printed
off, revised, altered wholly, and portions cancelled.
Dickens's handwriting always offered an extra-
ordinary revelation of his character. It was so
" prompt," so alert, finished, and full of purpose and
decision ; legible also, but requiring familiarity and train-
ing to read. As we look at the manuscript of his stories,
with their crowded lines and intricate corrections, we
must admire the cleverness of the printers, who,
liowever, learned his " ways " perfectly. How curious,
* This character, " Captin Fermor," was elaborately studied, and drawn from
a person I knew, a man of extraordinary cleverness and ineffable conceit, and to
whom some one — out of malice, I suspect — sent the book that he might recognise
himself. It was an awkward moment when, one day, looking at himself in the
pier glass, he said carelessly, " Do you know, it struck me once or twice that there
was something in Fermor rather like me ? " I could only murmur, " 0,
nonsense," and he seemed to agree that the notion was too far-fetched.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
too, was that fancy of his for the bhie paper and blue
ink, which clung to him till his death ; so much so,
that the rare letter written on white paper and with
black ink seems almost " unnatural " and uncongenial.
But in any letter of his the \^Titing, superscription,
signature, paper, ink and the rest, were all in
character, and seldom varied. The contrast of his
script with the tottering, quavering scrawl of his old
friend Bulwer was astonishing.
Earlier in this book I have quoted his interesting
letter of suggestions as to the treatment of this story
of mine, and it is reproduced here in facsimile. In the
course of writing half a dozen of such serials I had
many similar ones, all full of valuable criticisms ; but
these I cannot find, though they must exist and are
" somewhere." Alas ! I notice that a great man's
letters are rarely taken sufficient care of until after
his death, for it is assumed that the fountain will
be always flowing. I may again call attention to one
invaluable criticism as a specimen of many others :
"The only suggestion I have to make as to the MS.
in hand and type is that Captain Fermor wants relief.
It is a disagreeable character, as you mean it to be, and
I should be afraid to do so much with him, if the case
were mine, without taking the taste of him here and
there out of the reader's mouth. It is remarkable
that if you do not administer a disagreeable character
carefully, the public will have a decided tendency to
think that the story is disagreeable, and not merely
the fictitious person."
What an interesting analysis is here. What delicate
touches of criticism as to the treatment of character.
Here are words of counsel and wisdom from " a past
master " in his art. What instruction, and, it may be
■;, WEEKLY .OUKNM^^O^^OC^-'" BY OH.KLE^ mcKENS, ^
5a .-ii^' /flC< ^ c^^ //L^^u. *M. /v7^ ;^;-- '*"^ 4r^
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wiC^cA»;.w /^'^ cf^ ^'^
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FROM CHARLES UlCKKNS TO PERCY FITZ.UORALI)
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
added, what modest, deferential advice to a mere
neophyte. Did I profit by it ? Alas ! I fear I was
then in the fullness of gaiete. de coeur, youth at the
prow and pleasure at the helm — not pausing to think,
perpend, and inwardly digest so kind a mentor's most
precious sayings.
Dickens was gifted in most ways, and knew how to
carry out his purposes in the most perfect style. Thus
liis system of " posters " for his papers was a truly
striking one. He had devised a party-coloured
■' livery " of the most flamboyant kind — placards on
a rich golden orange ground with black and red
lettering. These imposing bills were nigh six feet
long, and when he was announcing a new serial they
" broke out " all over the kingdom. I never shall
forget the sort of delighted shock I experienced when,
walking through the good city of Chester, I saw one
of these announcements heralding my new story
" Never Forgotten," and proclaiming the first number
for a certain date. Here is fame, thought I.
" Never Forgotten" proved a reasonable success. In
book form it passed through several editions, and is
still on sale. There is a good deal of Bbz's work in it —
on every page sentences of his composition, happy,
little turns, quips and cranks, which pointed the
narrative. But a " galley slip " of Boz's was amazing.
It suggested a blue netAvork spread over the printed
lines, the blank spaces on the sides full of crowded
wTiting, whole paragraphs " deleted," all this repre-
senting very considerable cost. For he cared nothing
tor the limits of " over-running," and would insert lines
and sentences for which room could only be found by
" dislocating " many inches of tjrpe.
225
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
Boz was much " arrided," to use Elia's happy-
phrase, by an incident connected with this story. An
eminent firm of perfumers, seeing everjnvhere on the
hoardings "Never Forgotten," with Boz's name below in
richly black letters on an orange ground, devised a new
perfume, and named it after the story. They sent me
a little case of the bottles, which I, as in duty bound,
shared with my chief, though he was indeed entitled to
the whole.
As I have said before, it was a delightful, as it was
an unusual, thing to have to do Avith an editor who
was not merely practical and workmanlike in his office,
but grew eager and enthusiastic over his own workman's
productions. He would WTite and talk eagerly on the
merits of some particular story, importuning almost his
friends to read it.
Thus once at Hamburg, in 1869, before the extinction
of the gambling, I had been watching for nearly a
month all the dramatic incidents of the play, and
amused myself by working them up into a very tragic
novel. He was immensely pleased with it. As we
look through his letters of that date, we shall find him
eagerly urging his friends : " Read Fatal Zero, j'ou
will find it a story of extraordinary interest, developing
as it goes on." And he would write to me constantly,
reporting favourable opinions : " Wilkie thinks it
powerful, etc." It continued its course for some
months, and has been reprinted several times.
226
CHAPTER XVI
SOME OF THE AUTHOR's JOURNALISTIC EXPERIENCES.
HUMOURS AND WHIMS OF EDITING. THE LOSS OF
WILLS AND OF ARTHUR SMITH. "THE UNCOMMERCIAL
TRAVELLER." SUPPRESSION OF " THE CHRISTMAS
NUMBER." THE NEW SERIES.
In the springtime of 1860, when there was much
talk of Rome and Romans and Roman changes, a
daring scheme came into my head, and I casually-
suggested to my kind patron that I should go out
and " do " what was going on in the Eternal City.
To my surprise and pleasure he gave his consent.
I was to go and look about me with a free hand, and
supply as many papers as I chose to send. That was
indeed an enchanting time. I fell in with some friends,
who had the entree everywhere and saw everything.
Holy Week Rites included. I often think since, with
much compunction, that it was not exactly reverent
to apply the free and easy All the Year Round methods
to the City of the Holy See, and that I gave too much
freedom to my frondeur pen. But this did not occur
to me at the time, and the rather reckless spirit of
the journal, with the wish to produce, led me on.
The sketches were well received, and copied into
The Times, in spite of their exaggeration.
In March, 1861, all the world was reading the
absorbing dramatic details of " the Yelverton Marriage
227
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Case,"* now long forgotten. But what " a pother " at
the moment ! The heroine had attracted all sym-
patliies from her demeanour and the harsh treatment
she had suffered, and had gained the hearts of the
Irish barristers as well as of the judge who tried the case,
the late Chief Justice Monahan. The trial was an extra-
ordinary scene from the partisanship displayed on all
sides. Had the "counsellors" worn swords these must
have, according to the historic phrase, " leaped from
their scabbards." Having been present all through,
I wrote for All the Year Round a vivid picture of the
varied scenes and emotions, under the title supplied by
Dickens, " An Unexamined Witness on the Great
Marriage Case." Here the leading counsel were limned
— the brilhant, impetuous Whiteside as Brightside,
Q.C., and the late IVIr. Brewster disrespectfully dubbed
as " Whitewhisker " — he represented the " villain of the
piece." The sketch was copied into all the local
prints, read all over the kingdom. Of these portraits
one gained for me the " eternal friendship " of the first,
while the second did not exactly win for me the
partiality of his rival. Whiteside, like all mercurial
spirits, was sensitive, eager for praise to the last moment
of his life. He was certainly an interesting man, from
his perpetual juvenile buoj'ancy. The lady was Teresa
Longworth, highly-strung and comporting herself as an
interesting victim. She clung to I\Ii-. Whiteside, and I
suspect was rather an inconvenient burden. A heroine
is often a rather troublesome person. It was impossible,
however, not to feel pity for her sad case and cruel
fate. All the tumult and sympathy of the Irish trial
* At this moment few, except lawyers and students will recall the incidents
of this exciting cause, which turned on the secret marriage of the son of a noble
house — the Avonmorca — with a young Roman Catholic heroine. As a Kouiish
priest had performed the ceremony — an offence against the law at the time —
the husband repudiated the bond.
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
went for nothing, for the verdict was " upset " bj'^ the
House of Lords on a point of law, I think. The shoutings
of the mob were but an unsubstantial guerdon, to say
nothing of the street ballads, in which were some
memorable lines :—
" Long life unto the Jury
Which brought the vardict home
Because she was a mimber
Of the Holy Church of Rome ! "
I knew her, and have some of her letters. She
was induced to write a novel on the strength of her
position, and Bentley gave her a substantial sum for
her Martyrs to Cir cum stances. But it had little merit.
This faculty of seizing on " the cynosure of the
moment and at the psychological moment" was, I believe,
what gained me the favour and encouragement of our
chief. The device of setting enticing and alluring headings
to each paper, having also quaint double meanings,
was carried to the extreme and cultivated by all his
'■ followers." It was thought all-important, and it
was believed that the reader was caught and influenced.
Even the admirable Boz himself had the most intense
faith in such devices. And yet it was but a deceptive and
theatrical system. A clever paper was not considered
clever enough unless it received some title of this kind,
which all the time was a deceptive one. It was on the
principle of the showy poster in the street. The reader
is " trapped " by the title, but undeceived as he
finishes his perusal. I always recoiled from this
" headings " system. I remember having written a
book which had passed through the journal, and the
worthy Wills suggested that he should have the proofs,
engaging to furnish every one of the two hundred
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
pages with an appropriate " heading ! " It was a long
and laborious job, and it was good-natured of him.
Here is a specimen of the flippant sketches I was
concerned in. Dealing with the great sartorial sumptuous-
ness of the Third Empire, I ventured on a comic sketch
of the once famous Worth, under the title of
" The Great IVIan-Mtlliner ! "
The description was certainly contemptuous. He
was described as a humble tailor in an English
provincial town. The success of the man was
astounding. His talk with his clients, all imaginary,
was made grotesque. There was a suggestion, though
remote, of the Editor's ovni now far-off Mantalini.
of immortal memory. Whatsoever he was he had a
dignified temper, and showed a noble indifference to
calumnious reports. They did not touch him, because
they could not touch his success, so he contented
himself with simply calling attention to an inaccuracy.
Boz put it all right in his own way :
" Note on ' The Great Man-Milliner.' — We have been
asked to state that Mr. Worth, of Paris, whose proficiency
in the millinery art was described at page 564 of our
last volume, did not begin life as a tailor, but as ' an
apprentice to one of the most celebrated silk mercers
in the West-End of London.' "
We can see the roguish eyes of Boz twinkling as
no other eyes could as he wrote these pleasant lines.
Often in the case of some tragic catastrophe he
would make an expedition to the scene itself, and
expend all the powers of his heart and talent in setting
forth a tale of suffering and sorrow, so as to excite
230
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
general sympatiiy, using all as a text for setting forth
the virtues of the poor. Who will forget such an
effort which he made on the occurrence of a dreadful
wreck on the Welsh coast and his touching treatment
of the matter, his special visit to the place, his talks
with the unhappy relatives, the piteous letters.
No one but Dickens himself could supply this sort of
thing, and no one but Dickens would receive the same
attention. Hence the overpowering personality which
pervaded his journal and gave it its cachet or hall-mark.
In April, 1863, I chanced to be concerned in a
murder trial, in which the accused was convicted in a
strange way by a watch, to gain which a murder had
been committed, and which had stopped at a particular
hour, when the murdered man had been flung into
the water. The story, called The Fatal Watch, made
an impression on Dickens, and I always fancy that
when he came to deal with the murder in Edwin Drood
it recurred to his memory. An article on South
African gold, in which the " rowdiness " of the workers
was described, drew forth what Dickens called " a
tempered remonstrance," which he accepted in his
always equitable spirit, withdrawing the charges as
against the ivhole community. Then followed a long
series of " letters " to the Lord Chamberlain, the
reports of a volunteer commissioner, dealing with the
treatment of music halls, and theatres, March, 1869.
As he lost his dear and early friends one by one,
Dickens usually paid each an affectionate tribute in
his journal, and in his own effective and telUng
style. But there were degrees in the force and
warmth of these Uttle sketches. This it is that gives
such a value to these retrospective communings, and
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
reveals to us the affectionate heart of the writer.
There is one in particular where this affection seems
unbounded, for he had lost what, it is believed, was the
one he loved best — even beyond the trusty Forster.
This was Stanfield, the painter, a man of a simple
nature, and utterly without affectation — " Stanny,"
as he was affectionately called. Not less simple and
heartfelt is Dickens's epitaph, written with all his
grace. The truth was, the painter was his favourite,
and he loved and trusted him more than any. Another
of these most affectionate notices was the one devoted
to his old friend Talfourd, who died suddenly when
actually on the Bench. These loving tributes, coming
from the heart, are full of true feeling and affection,
and hallow his journal.
Boz could wield his pen with much sarcasm and
many a witty gibe. It is singular to find such severity
in so " mild a mannered man." He could not resist
also making his opponent out as absurd a figure as
possible. How he lashed the Pre-Raphaelites, what
fun he made of them, though one of them was destined
to be his son-in-law !
And there was one body against which he and his
friend, the doughty John Forster, waged an unrelenting
war for many years. This was the Literary Fund, which
the pair even insisted was conducted on a " jobbing "
or inefficient system. It was wonderful the spirit
with which they carried on the contest. They
attended the meetings and moved resolutions, and were
always voted down. Boz, we may be sure, did not
spare them in his own journal, and I possess an
animated " slashing " pamphlet (very rare) which he
and his ally drew up showing the abuses. Here
nothing is spared, argument, sarcasm, ridicule. The
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
Secretar}^ Octavius Blewitt, seems to have been " the
enemy."
In 1866 Boz indulged himself in some amusing
persiflage of a French translation of liis " Our Mutual
Friend," in which he gave play to a good-natured
rallying. It may be said that nothing in such
attempts is more delectable than the version of
Pickwick, which is as amusing in its way as the
original.
As the energetic man pursued his mixed, tumultuous
course, busy with innumerable things, conducting his
paper, A\Titing his serials, wdth Christmas numbers, proof-
correcting, editing, Avith readings and travel combined,
doing all his varied work in his own thorough fashion,
he was, alas ! destined to receive a staggering blow,
A^hich was to throw him into a state of confusion and
hopeless AATeck almost. This was an accident which
befell his assistant, agent, factotum, editor, his "second
mind " and keeper of his seals, his trusty and faithful
W. H. Wills, who was thrown from his horse in 1868,
and, lighting on his head, received concussion of the
brain, which left him hors de combat. I have never
forgotten his vivid description of his sensations :
" Ah, you cannot divine what it is to hear doors slamming
in your head all day." Poor Wills ! For years he
had to make tentative experiments as to reading,
writing, or mental effort ; but the fatal sounds always
recurred, so he gave up the attempt.
This faithful lieutenant died in the year 1880
at his country " seat," as he might call it, down
at Sherrards, near Welwyn in Hertfordshire. For long
he had been alone, for his patron had gone home ten
3'ears before, and most of the staunch old contributors
too were dead. In his later years he was consoled
233
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
for his great calamity by his new order of Hfe as a
country gentleman, hospitable entertainer, and even
Justice of the Peace. Ever friendly and good-natured,
he exercised an unbounded hospitality.
Seven years before another crushing blow had fallen
on Boz, when Arthur Smith, his right-hand man in
business, brother to Albert, and one of the soundest,
cleverest managers of exhibitions, fell ill of a sudden,
was snatched away as suddenly, and left the
unfortunate Dickens immersed in unknown businesses,
mysteries and details which he could make nothing of !
No one can conceive the disastrous position in
which Boz was thus suddenly placed by the loss of
such a valuable assistant as Wills. He was bound up
with numerous and heavy enterprises — readings,
editing, publishing — each requiring careful and
laborious superintendence, and here of a sudden the
burden of all was thrown upon him. The finding of
fresh, competent men might not have been so
difficult, but the thing was to find persons suited to
him and his ways — a peculiar type of assistant who
would understand him as they had done. Well might
he feel hopeless and helpless as he looked about him.
But he showed his wonderful courage, and strove to
mend matters as he could. Alas ! the result showed
him that he must do everything himself. Wills and his
friends were buoyed up with the hope that careful rest
would restore him. His chief looked forward to this,
and, while waiting, was assisted by an old aide and
co-operator Morley. But Morley had been appointed
a professor, and could not stay long. Finally, however,
it was found that Wills was making no advance, and
Dickens had to ask himself what was to be done.
In February, 1869, he determined on the not very
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
prudent step of putting his eldest son, Charles the
younger, in the place of this well-trained man.
I have often thought that when Boz was thinking
how to supply Wills's place it was a pity he did not
recall the name of the highly-capable and amiable
James Payn, who might have suited him excellently.
His later direction of the Cornhill Magazine certainly
proved his capacity, though a drawback would have
been his sufferings from the most acute forms of gout-
This, however, did not assail him until some years later.
For his other and then more active department Boz,
after much search and many difficulties, had selected
George Dolby, a useful personage, but far inferior to his
predecessor. He was, however, well adapted for dealing
with the Americans, whom Dickens was now about to
visit, for he was equipped with a store of rough-and-
ready badinage, a loud laugh, and stock of would-be
humorous stories. I could fancy Boz finding himself
but ill suited with such a companion, unless he
chose at times to s'encanailler, as the French have
it, which would be a relief and recreation.
The untiring Editor, never sparing himself and
giving of his best, in the early days of All the Year
Round cast about for some coup which might add
to the general attraction of his paper, and with
his usual felicity devised something that was to prove
effective. This was the series styled " The Uncom-
mercial Traveller," or later " Uncommercial Samples."
These at once attracted, and are indeed most entertaining
to read, being full of vivacity, gaiety, and even high
spirits. The mere collection of titles suggests hilarity.
Boz, in his latter days of conductorship, saw that he
could make his contributions more weighty and impor-
tant by setting his name to them instead, as formerly.
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
of " submerging " them among the other anonymous
contributors. It was thus that he lighted on the
notion of these " Uncommercial Samples," one of his
happiest conceptions, though I fancy rather suggested
by the success of Thackeray's " Roundabout Papers."
It is amusing to contrast the respective treatment, each
denoting the writer's character and tastes. Thackeray
is wholly critical of other persons and things, and
delivers his o^\ti depreciations of persons and things
ex cathedra. Boz seems to wish to entertain. He
describes certainly his own feelings and observations,
but conveys that it is all done to amuse. Thackeray's
was the loftier view, the sarcastic critic, quite
" superior," and ever taking a sort of judicial attitude
in his cynical carpings. Dickens went down and
joined the crowd and talked with those near him,
pointing out something that would amuse. Thackeraj'
remained in his "reserved" seat, indulging his neigh-
bours with sneers and sarcastic jests at everyone's
expense, affecting to mourn over the general depravity
and insincerity of his fellows.
It may be doubted if any author of note has
furnished such vivacious and interesting series of
personal details and reflections, as well as of light and
airy adventiu'es pleasant!}' told, as did Dickens in
"The Uncommercial Traveller" (or "Samples"), and in
other papers relating to himself, scattered through the
two journals. From these we come to know the vian
in his most confiding and familiar mood, somewhat after
the pattern of " Eugenius." He began with seventeen
papers, then left them aside ; later eleven were added,
and later again eight more, making thirty-six in all,
quite a body of interesting communings, which sets
our favourite author completely before us, as though in
"ALL THE YRAK ROUND"
robe de cJiambre. It maj'- be said the incidents are
trifling, but it is the garnishing, the setting, the Boz
view of things that attracts, and there is a fresh and
dehghtful humour present. These productions, as our
author tells us, " were received wdth very great favour,"
which is no surprise, for the topics dealt with are truly
suggestive, all betokening that he is reporting and
illuminating also what he has felt and observed. And
what feeling and what observation ! It has since
become the fashion for gUblj' inferior, boisterous
%\Titers to tell us all about themselves, what they have
felt and observed, but with a difference — and such a
difference ! — such confessions being made with a free
and almost intrusive familiarity which has become
quite intolerable.*
Dickens was often to experience his little annoyances
and embarrassments from incautious or unscrupulous
contributors, though they were only "pin-pricks." He
knew how to extricate himself with grace and charity,
but they were worries. Thus in April, 1866, someone
sent him a paper called " Our Suburban Residences,"
in which the natives of the place were touched off with
much vivacity, with also a personality that ought to
have put him on his guard. There was a paragraph
of a few lines describing a German doctor, who was a
homoeopath, " professing to cure all maladies with
invisible globules." He had wrought cures, " some
of which, to say the least, were extraordinary." " He
had set up a home for orphans, for which, supported
* Here are some titles of these enjoyable papers : " His General Line of Business,"
" The Shipwreck," " Wapping Workhouse," " Two Views of a Cheap Theatre,"
" Poor Mercantile Jack," " Refreshments for Travellers," " Travelling Abroad,"
" The Oreat Tasmania's Cargo," " City of London Churches," " Shy
Neighbourhoods," " Trumps," " DuUborough Town," " Night Walks,"
" Ciiambers," " Nurse's Stories," " Arcadian London," " The Italian Prisoner."
There is also another series.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
by public subscriptions, he had constituted himself
secretary, medical attendant, surgeon, superintendent,
and all the oflfices of such an institution rolled into one."
Now this seems '.what is called "running a little close
to the wind," and Boz's treatment of the matter seems
to indicate that some severe steps were about to be
taken, for he compelled the writer to make an almost
abject apology, introduced by a severe rebuke, a quite
unusual thing with this indulgent man. It ran :
" Private Character.
" A representation has been made to us that the
article entitled ' Our Suburban Residences ' is not pure
fiction, as it purported to be, and as we beheved it to be,
biit has in it some colouring of distorted fact, calculated
to misrepresent and injure an amiable and useful
gentleman. We believe this representation to be
strictly true, and we profoundly regret the publication
of the article, though no editor can possibly guard
himself at all times against such deception."
Another casual notice had merely stated that a
certain writer lived at Hertford and had ruined himself
in " devotion to wisdom." He was offended, and
demanded reparation, and Boz thus made him his
excuses :
" The author still lives, we find, at Hertford, and
prosperously devotes himself to Eastern literature, of
which we have ample proof in his ' elegant little
catalogue.' We learn that not only profit but honour
has sprung from his labours, and that he has received
gold medals from the Queen and Empress of the French
in appreciation of the skill and good taste which he has
displayed in his art."
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
Thus gracefully does our author make the amende.
We see here good feeling and the wish to make the
complaining worthy satisfied with himself.
In September, 1864, there was nearly a serious
catastrophe at the office of the journal, which seems to
have been an attempt at setting the place on fire, it
would appear, by one of the staff, for Dickens writes to
Wills : " It is to be regretted that we could not take
to Bow Street. In the case of so nefarious an
offence there really is a duty to be done to Society,
though I am almost afraid to use the phrase, it is so
horribly abused." The truth was " the chief," from
his generous, confiding nature and known feeling to the
poor and lower class, was a sort of public mark or victim
to be ■' spoiled " or frightened in case of faction and
disappointment. The S3^stem in this extreme case
proved to be successful, for the scoundrel, as we see,
was " let off."
The amiable Dickens, who was so confiding and
generous with his subordinates, often met with but
an ill return, even from those he most trusted. IVIr.
Lehmann supplies a letter of a very disastrous
incident, showing what occurred in 1867 during
the Readings — in this case a well-trusted follower
had been " stealing money." " No wonder," said
Boz, " I was shocked, because often as I had tried him
I never found him beside my desk when I was writing
a letter ivithoiit finding Mm trying to read it."* He
comforted Wills with this noble declaration : " If we
try to do our duty to the people we employ, treating
them kindly and fairly, their doing wrong cannot
change our doing right, and that should be enough for
* This little touch illustrates Dickens's delightful capacity of setting every
incident — even a disagreeable one — in a dramatic light and form.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
us." And then this moral : " I am glad that the
misconduct of has given us the opportunity of
advancing people whose conduct has been good."
In the year 1866, when the journal had been issued
for about six years, the amazingly industrious conductor
was able to furnish this report of work done : — S' teen
volumes each of some five or six hundred double-cc umn
pages, at five shillings and sixpence each volum*^, and
containing these novels and tales : "A Tale of
Two Cities," "Hunted Down," " Great Expectations "
(Dickens), " The Woman in White " " No Name,"
(Wilkie Collins), " A Strange Story " (Sir E. Bulwer
Lytton), "x\ Dark Night's Work" (Mrs. Gaskell),
" Very Hard Cash" — it became later "Hard Cash" —
(Charles Reade), " Quite Alone " (G. A. Sala), " A Day's
Tour," " A Rent in a Cloud " (Lever), " Half a MiUion
of ]\Ioney " (Amelia B. Edwards), " Black Sheep "
(Edmund Yates), " Alia Bar " (Charles Colhns),
"Never Forgotten," and "The Second ]Mrs. Tillotson"
(Percy Fitzgerald). Here was a substantial and hand-
some display in the way of serial fiction. There was
also "The Uncommercial Traveller," by Dickens, eight
Christmas numbers, mostly of his own Amting or
contriving, nearly all the frameworks and many of the
tales. He supplies to us a comprehensive account of
aim and purpose of the magazine as " a collection of
miscellaneous articles interesting to the widest range
of readers, consisting of Suggestive, Descriptive and
Critical Dissertations on the most prominent topics,
British and foreign, that form the social history of the
past eight years." His business-like thoroughness is
shown by the well-designed index to each volume — not
a mere list of the articles, but a topical one of " matters "
240
" ALL THBl YEAR ROUND "
as the French say. This drudging labour was continued
to the very end for four years more. Only those
familiar with the course of the journal could give a
notion of the intimate, never-flagging connection
which he maintained with it week by week, vitalising
it by plans, suggestions, new ideas, his own actual
contributions, never ceasing revision of proofs ; making
an incredible amount of anxious toil and manual work.
Two years later his wakeful, watchful mind was still
planning new methods for improving his enterprise.
On November 28th, 1868, he announced that " the
noontide volume of All the Year Round being now
completed, I shall commence next week an entirely new
series of All the Year Round.'''' And when the period
fixed came round and the series was complete, he
greeted " his patrons " — if they might so be described —
with a sort of programme, in which is revealed the
true, practical reason for starting a fresh series, namely
the reluctance of subscribers to encumber themselves
with long-protracted sets.
The most serious change, however, is announced
in a casual way at the end, viz. the suppression of
the familiar and ever-welcome Christmas number.
Characteristic was the feeling that prompted it, and
one which I take to be associated with the sort of
repugnance he had conceived for the labour and
difficulties entailed in concei\'ing the design and
working out. Another reason no doubt was that it
did not pay him for the intellectual expenditure
and waste. This will be seen in a moment. It may
have brought liim in a thousand or even fifteen hundred
pounds yearly; but he considered that here was the
design for a book, or the substantial portion of a book,
quite spoiled, lost or gone to waste. As the profits of the
241
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
latter were from sixteen to twenty thousand pounds,
anything that would impair the chances of these huge
returns was clearly improvident. He no doubt felt
all along that his Christmas miscellany Avas dearly
bought. I fancy, however, that he might have been
less difficile in the preparation of the miscellany, and
that his name alone, and possibly some slight frame-
work prepared without much expenditure of trouble,
would have sufficed to bring him in the same substantial
return. But we must recall his sturdy principle of doing
everything in the best possible way it could be done.
As I continue turning over the double-columned
pages of the journal, volume after volume, continually
attracted by some of the Editor's attractive devices,
I find it becoming hopeless to take stock of his versatile
devices. Space would altogether fail ; and what is
worse, the result would run counter to the intention.
There would be left the impression of a catalogue, of
repetition, and perhaps of tediousness. So I pause
here, having given, as I think, just sufficient specimens
to supply an idea of Boz's enticing system and methods.
There were ominous clouds overshadowing him which
I noted with a melancholy interest during these
closing days, when I could see that something was
impending. He seemed borne down and worn out, yet
struggling on. Never shall I forget the melancholy
of my last talk with him, when he strove as usual to bo
cheerful and encouraging.
In one of the early numbers we have this almost
fierce and vehement protest : —
" To THE Public.
" A very unjustifiable paragraph has appeared in
some newspapers, to the effect that 1 have relinquished
the Editorship of this Publication. It is not only
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
unjustifiable because it is wholly untrue, but because
it must be wilfully or negligently untrue if any respect
be due to the explicit terms of my repeatedly published
announcement of the present new series under my own
hand."
Here was a tone of passionate excitement usually
exhibited by the ^v^ite^ when any charge that was
unjust or unfounded was put forward against him.
He repelled it with warmth and indignation. No
doubt he felt that his long-established position and
reputation — as all but the idol of his public — should
protect him from such falsehoods.
The new series had been made more inviting by an
artistic heading, the type was less crowded, and there
was altogether a brighter air. And yet these constant
changes and alterations somewhat suggest the notion
that the Editor was feeling his hold of the public re-
laxing, and that it was necessary to find some new
form of attraction. It might have been that this shape
of personally conducted journal had now grown a little
old fashioned. It had been nearly twenty years now
before the public, which was a long time. The public
has its little caprices. It was no doubt gradually
preparing itself for the newer and more personal form
of " weekly," the " Society Journal," which was to offer
something more piquant, and supply the most familiar
forms of household " gossip," combined with the short
tale, essays and political speculation. Again, as already
hinted, All the Year Round had never surmounted
the disability of its rather awkward, uncongenial name,
which was always interposing between its contents
and the reader. It expressed little more than the method
of its issue. Had its gifted Editor lived some years longer
he was likely enough to have witnessed its slow decay.
243
CHAPTER XVII
EXTINCTION OF THE TWO JOURNALS
It is a rather sad thing to follow the waning fortunes
of All the Year Round during the years that
followed the founder's death. As is known, he not only-
left his son in the editor's chair, but bequeathed to him
the whole property in the concern. This was indeed
a most valuable legacy, equivalent, I fancy — it is a
mere conjecture — to some two or three thousand
pounds a year. A less sum would certainly not have
remunerated Dickens for his labours. This to the son
was wealth beyond the dreams of avarice, for he had
strangely chosen the printer's calling, and was joined
with his brother-in-law, Evans, in a printing venture
of their own.* His first act was to purchase Gad's Hill,
a scarcely provident step, at an enormous price, due
to the prestige of the late owner — nearly £7,000.
Then came the editing of his journal.
He set himself to his very ardous task, for which he
was scarcely equipped. But he was clever — a " smart
fellow " as his friends held him to be (and he had many
warm friends), and by simply following the traditions
of the journal, and retaining the old contributors, he
really managed to keep his craft afloat almost to the
end of his life — for many years.
He issued a modest appeal to the public asking its
♦ The pair became printers to the Crystal Palace, under the style of " Charles
Dickens and Evans, Pointers," and as a matter of course they undertook the
printing of the journal.
-ALL THE YEAK EOUND "
support and patronage, heading it oddly enough, it
must be said; for everyone would recall what the
word " Personal " was associated with some years
before.
PERSONAL.
It was my Father's wish, expressed in writing
only a week before his death, that I, his eldest son, and
latterly his assistant editor, should succeed him in the
management of the Journal so long associated with his
name.
In accordance with this clearly-expressed desire,
and strong in the hope inspired by so encouraging a
mark of his confidence, I address myself to the fulfilment
of the task which he appointed me to discharge.
It is intended that the management of All the
Year Round, in the future, shall be based on precisely
the same principles as those on which it has, up to
this time, been conducted. The same authors who
have contributed to its columns in time past, will
contribute to them still. The same spirit which has
in the past pervaded its pages will, so far as con-
scientious endeavour may render it possible, pervade
them still. The same earnest desire to advocate what
is right and true, and to oppose what is false and
unworthy, which was the guiding principle of my
Father's career, and which has always characterised
his management of All the Year Round, will, I most
earnestly hope, continue to be apparent in its every
word.
So much, then, being the same, it may not be pre-
sumptuous in me to hope that the same readers with
whom this Journal, and that which preceded it, found
favour for so many j^ears, may still care to see the
familiar title page on their tables as of old.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
With this brief explanation of the course I propose
to adopt, and omitting all reference whatever to my
own personal feelings in connexion with the great
sorrow which has rendered this statement necessary,
I leave the future Journal to speak for itself.
" It is better that every kind of work, honestly
undertaken and discharged, should speak for itself
than be spoken for." These were the words ^^'ith which
my Father inaugurated the New Series of All the
Year Round. I cannot surely do better than repeat
them in this place.
CHARLES DICKENS, Junr.
This appeared on July 2nd, and for some months
he signed himself in this fashion.
The amiable Boz was often led away in his judg-
ments by his partialities. He certainly made a mistake
when he conceived that his son had something of his
own turn for writing. It was the last thing he had
a turn for. His style lacked imagination, and was
conceived in a hard matter-of-fact strain as though he
were writing a business letter. Boz used to ^vrite to
his friends congratulating himself on having found so
useful an auxiliary, who would by and bj"^, when he
had learned the metier, take up the whole duty.
This younger Charles* was rather a perplexing
character — a good-natured, friendly fellow, as I always
* I recall that amiable and brilliant man, the late Canon Ainger, telling me that
he had been at a day school with Charlea Dickens the younger, and the two Stones,
Marcus and his brother. The master was Dr. King, and the sohoi>l somewhere
near the Regent's Park. The lads would come home tOL'ether to Dickens's house,
and often amused their host by " taking off " the oddities of their master. The
observant Bor, took stock of these free and easy sketches, and having to draw a
schoolmaster in his Dombey and Son. he "put in" this Dr. King as " BUmber."
Dr. King had two sisters, also a subject for the lads' comic powers, but Boz
contented himself merely with one female pedagogue. We may be certain that our
author found this method of adapting living characters a great saving of time
and trouble, besides its imparting an air of nature and reality.
"ALL THE YEAR ROUND"
found him, business-like, also regular in payments, but
I fancy with small control over his ow-n expenses.
He had many friends and acquaintances, and was
always bon camarade, and though he had to struggle
with many cares and a large family, he did so cheerfully.
As I have said, he was not a trained writer, though he
understood the newspaper fashions very well. He was
the author of some cleverly-designed Guide Books for
London and Paris, laid out on quite new lines, which
I beUeve still hold their ground. He never lost his
spirit and cheerfulness. For a long series of years,
even down to his death, he contrived to baffle and
surmount all difficulties.
Wonderful also was his steadiness of purpose, and
the cleverness with which, to the last, he contrived
to carry on his journal, for about twenty-three years,
apparently without debt or embarrassment, and
editing it also respectably. It was not unentertaining,
even in its moribund days. But presently there
was found no room for it. It had outlived its
method.
" 0 my coevals, remnants of yourselves ! "
So it was. "It vos to be and it vos, Samivel."
A quaint attempt at keeping it alive was the
revival of the old Household Words as a cheap and
rather "scrubby "penny rival to the Family Herald,
London Journal, and papers of that type. Finally,
on its extinction, it was incorporated with Household
Words. Both expired together about fourteen years ago.
Later, in 1896, Charles Dickens the younger died, ending
his chequered life. The two journals founded by
Dickens had thus a course of about forty years.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
of which twenty were spent under his guidance. They
provide good material in a hbrary, making about
forty volumes of really entertaining reading. One
cannot but admire the variety of the topics that
has been supplied ; but as one turns from volume to
volume one will have to think of the amazing, never-
flagging weekly toil which secured this vein of interest,
beyond doubt at the expense of health and strength,
and even life itself.
U Envoi.
And now, on coming to the close of this long
retrospect, it will be asked, naturally enough, what
influence had Dickens's long, laborious weekly teaching,
continued unflaggingly for twenty years, on the style
and methods of writing of the day ? There can be
no question but that he introduced and made fashion-
able an entirely novel system, developed out of the
humorous treatment of his own novels. Everything
was to be set in a comical light — the person or thing
or situation, however grave or serious, must be made
funny, coute que coiiie. This the vulgar might call
caricature. Dickens's own humour, as shown in his
lively papers, was limpid ever, clear, and mirth-moving.
Not so that of his imitating followers,* whose
" Dickens and water," as it was droUy described,
was all mechanical.
There can be no doubt that the twenty years
of unreal writing had resulted in an artificial
sort of literature — an inferior, " Dickensese dialect "
* Id one of hia letters to Wills (penes Lehmann) Boz quotes from a letter of
mine to himself, where I frankly spoke of this " slavish " copying of him, as
though it were unavoidable.
" ALL THE YEAR ROUND '
as it was called. Words were the counters with
which the game was played, and which took the
place of thought and feeling. The system was carried
so far, that on reading it now we wonder how it could
have been accepted even for a time. But on the
death of Boz a reaction set in. It was seen that he
alone had the secret, and so with his departure the
whole system was lost, and utterly vanished. Yet all
was utterly unlike the real Dickens. The classical
mind could only recall the phrase " corrwptio optimi
pessima.^''
Finally, we may ask ourselves what influence this
laborious weekly discipline exercised on his genius and
methods. That is a large, important and most interest-
ing— hitherto utterly neglected — subject. Did this
system of weekly observation — this looking, as it were,
through a humorous opera-glass at the oddities,
humours, follies, " goodities " of human nature —
improve or dilute away his great spirit of humour ?
Did it enfeeble the bold and broad treatment which
was usually found in his novels ? And yet it was
impossible but that a thousand or so weeks of this
journalistic work mtist have had its effect on his
more monumental efforts. I think on the whole it
may have been favourable ; for ha\'ing no respon-
sibility to anyone, he could give free play to all his
unbounded fancies and humours, make experiments
of a fanciful kind where there was no harm done in
case of failure, and make good and valuable practise
in shooting follies as they flew. This gave his hand
a greater flexibility and buoyancy. But then came
the drawback in a habit of ephemeral treatment,
with a consequent loss of sustained effort ; in
looking forward " a long way ahead," and preparing
249
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
his " spring " deliberately — in short, the twenty years
of fitful, casual sketch-\\Titing must have impaired his
old gift of carrying on a storj^ in long, prepared
portions and through a long space of time. These
are interesting speculations, which indeed might be
considered disposed of by the evidence of his last
story, unfinished as it is.
IV
ACCOUNT OF THE LEADING CONTRIBUTORS
TO THE TWO JOURNALS,
BASED ON THE ATJTHOB'S REMINISCENCES
Leading Contributors to the
two Journals
CHAPTER XVIII
G. A. SALA AND WILKIE COLLINS
The interest in the review which follows of a number
of clever and distinguished writers who worked with
Dickens lies, I think, in the fact that it is not gathered
from the Dictionary of National Biography and such
books of reference, but that they were personal
acquaintances and friends of my own, and that with
many I was on familiar terms. At this moment it is
curious that there should be nobody but myself in such
a position ; that is to say, who knew such a group as
Charles Reade, the first Lord Lytton, Sala, Yates,
Mrs. Lynn Linton, jVIrs. Norton, Mark Lemon, Wilkie
Collins, Barry Cornwall, Forster, Browning and many
more. There is now no one else who knew such a
group — or the ordinary daily life they lived and
their association with Boz.
The two periodicals. Household Words and All the
Year Round — apart from their connection with Dickens
and the genial inspiration which he furnished — may
be considered interesting as supplj'ing an almost com-
plete view of the more important " Victorian " writers,
" followers " of Boz, and in some cases all but servile
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
imitators of his style. They became, indeed, a sort of
school where they were taught — or taught themselves
— a special style.
Dickens, indeed, practically trained up quite a new
school of WTiters— insensibly moulding them to his own
peculiar pattern and stj^le. They were only too eager
and apt at imitation. They were even clever enough to
pick up a sort of mock Dickensese dialect, a kind of
forced smartness with a sustained design of being
funny and of making everything funn}'. It became
really a perfect knack, and quite easy to acquire.
When describing some personage one descriptive device
was to liken him to some grotesque being — familiar,
say, in politics — or give him a nickname and throughout
never to call him by any other. I am afraid I was a
dreadful offender in this Avay. Thus 1 recall dubbing
a harmless French General — Goyon by name — who was
in command at Rome, " Grand Pan Jam,'''* and he
was so called with many ridiculous variations to the
end, much to the bewilderment of the readers. It was
thought extremely droll ! To read these lucubrations
nowadays leaves a strange effect of sad unreality and
emptiness, as of exercises in familiar words nierely.
Where nowadays can we look for so versatile,
brilliant, many-sided and also exuberant writer
as George Augustus Sala ? How gifted he was, how
accomplished, how full of " dash " and " go " and
promptness ! but alas ! how unstable and uncertain.
This extraordinary being could talk in many languages,
• I recall receiving some fifty years later from the learned Editor of the great
English Dictionary, !Sir J. A. H. Murray, a letter inquiring for an exact reference
to the place where I had used these wordj. Naturally I could not tell, and \\ as mui'h
pressed to exert myself, as the matt«r was of import,ince: for, strange as it may
iieom, there was no other precedent to be found ! It never could be found, and now
figures in its place without reference, save as to the name of the writer.
254
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
could \\Tite upon any subject, upon a broomstick even,
could travel in remote regions, could " word-paint "
to perfection. He was " special correspondent,"
special reporter of scenes and events, filling his report
with vivid strokes and " purple patches," as no other
could. He was at home everywhere : in France,
German3% Russia ; a novelist, a dramatist after a
sort, essayist, talker, what not. But he was ^vrecked,
as I have said, by his reckless habits, his devotion to
the pleasure of the moment, his laxness in money
Tuatters, and his too convivial habits.
The story of his first connection with Boz has been
often told ; how his short sketch, " The Key of the
Street," pleased the Editor, and led to many contri-
butions. It took him a long time, however, before he
could bring round the indulgent Boz to agree to his
darling scheme that he should be dispatched to Russia
to do for the journal what he had so often done for his
own paper. The Daily Telegraph, that is, "word-paint"
all the manners, customs and doings of the Muscovites.
The scheme promised well, and might have been a
clever coup had it been faithfully carried out. As it
was it tiu-ned out a disastrous venture. He had the
most extraordinary art of saying an infinite deal about
nothing, all the while seeming to be writing down facts
and incidents. But he had also the fatal defect of
growing tired of an enforced " job." Then would he
ramble oflE in semi-humorous disquisitions, recollections,
anecdotes, sarcasms, anything but the matter in hand,
and, of course, he " got no forrader." He was much
directed by humours and impulses, and would of a
sudden find his task repulsive, and therefore to be
abandoned.
He was dispatched on this expedition towards
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
the end of 1856, well equipped, with advances of
money and suitable directions, and on October 4th
his reports began to appear under the title of
" A Journey Due North." For a few numbers all
promised well, though there was much of Sala and
but little of Russia, but presently came a sort of
breakdown and suspension of interest. When he got
at last to St. Petersburg he was almost tired of the
thing. He found it too hard to go about and pick up
information, and preferred to indulge in his rambUng
speculations all about nothing. For instance, he
devoted column after column to the subject of the
Russian cab-drivers, which then led him on to the cab-
drivers of other countries. He seemed unable to get
away from the subject. Then there was the great
street, the Newski Prospect, which he could not
quit either, over which he maundered for weeks. He
had, perhaps, spent all the money paid in advance. He
was already sick of the whole business. The journal
was greatly injured by these vagaries ; it was a very
expensive trip, and Dickens, after showing great
patience, abruptly stopped the series.*
I knew him very well, and both liked and admired
him. He used to ^n'ite to me amusing letters in a
confidential strain and penned in that exquisite and
most careful handwriting which seemed so inconsistent
in one of his careless habits. " Come up and hear
my new cough," he would \vrite humorously. I have
preserved some of these, and fancy that a specimen will
entertain the reader : —
• Whon Thackeray started the Comhitt. Sala, who knew something about
Hogarth, began an ambitious life of the painter, which started with promise, but
presently subsided into the usual r.imblings about himself and the present d,%y
and everybody, with much affectionate patting on the back of the painter, " dear
honest George with his good brave heiurt," etc. It speedily, and abruptly, stopiiod
short, never to be resumed.
256
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
49 GowER Street,
Bedford Square, W.C,
Monday Night, Tiventieth September, 1875.
Dear Percy Fitzgerald,
You were to have come to see me, at my late
residence at Brompton, a long time ago, to see if my
vols, of the old Examiner (1809-1840) contained
anything valuable to you from a Brightonian point
of view ; but you were then going out of town, and it
strikes me that I also, since you wrote, have been
" out of town," even among the orange groves of
Granada and the flower-farms of Morocco. But I am
not going to India.
i)r. Tomson's MSS. Well, all I know about them
is that you will find mention of their being in
the Ashmolean Museum in Howard Staunton's
(Routledge's) Shakespeare : Critical Remarks on
" Macbeth.'' There are extracts, likewise (I think)
from a certain stupendous piece of hack work compiled
by anonymous martyrs at £2 a week for the advantage
of literary men, and the profit of Messrs. , London
and Edinburgh — the Moses & Son of letters. Nay,
they must yield the palm to , , & .
The , sweaters as they have been, were unable to
conceive the grand imposture of making one grubby
stereotyped cast of a wood-engraved block do duty
in half a score of English publications. Hundreds of
\\Tetches have held up their hands at the Old Bailey
Sessions who have not been guilty of a tithe of these
low, cogging frauds, etc., who have unscrupulously
Dear me, I must have been dozing over this letter,
and dreamed that I was Charles Reade pitching into
all and sundry in the Pall Mall.
I like Irving setting up for a Shakspearian critic,
and not knowing that Davenant in 1679 had been
11 years dead. Still Irving, like Mr. Eccles in Caste,
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
is a " very clever man," and I hope Macbeth \\\\\ be a
success.
I wish tliat you would name an evening next iveek
when you would come and smoke a cigar with me.
You have only to name an evening when jovl are
disengaged after 8, and I will make it mine. Meanwhile
I am always faithfully yours,
GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA.
In the " office ledger " we find at almost every
entry in reference to Sala the words " paid in advance,"
suggesting a doubt whether the goods were supplied.
The elder Dumas was much addicted to this system,
though he sometimes went " one better," sending a
well-sealed roll of paper instead of copy.
Sala at length indulged in an escapade which tried
to breaking-point the endurance of Boz, who then cast
him off altogether. It came about in this way. After
a series of failures to perform contracts, advances of
cash never repaid, many " leavings in the lurch," the
reckless being began to importune his friend to " give
him one more chance." Had he not a splendid stirring
novel, all but ready, full of adventure ? Either wearied
out or in a fit of good nature, Dickens gave way. It was
about half done, I believe, but this was much —
enormous even — for Sala. It promised well, and was
called " Quite Alone ! "
It went on its course for a good many mouths,
beginning in February, 1864, and reached as far as
September 10th. In the next number, however, we
were greeted with this notice : —
" ' Quite Alone.'
" The continuation of this serial story is postponed
unavoidably until this day fortnight."
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
We who knew our Sala could easily read between
the lines — no " copy " and no power to write copy —
disgust — promises. A week would not do ; but in a
fortnight he positively would be on the road again.
But when a week had passed it was found there was no
prospect. It may be that he could not be found.
However, this announcement had to be made : —
" ' Quite Alone.'
'■ This story will be resumed in the number for
October 8th."
That is in the next week.
Next week, however, instead of the story we had
another notice : —
" ' Quite Alone.'
" The continuation of this story is postponed until
next week."
We can fancy the worry and annoyance for the
Editor. However, the story was actually resumed.
and to date. On November 12th it was concluded,
Had the unhappy Sala, then, therefore redeemed his
promise ? Nothing of the kind. I believe he supplied
not another line, and it is certain that Boz was com-
pelled to call in the aid of a deft emergency man —
Andrew Halliday — who in an incredibly short time
contrived to finish off the tale, imitating the style and
peculiarities of his friend — for such he was — with due
success. A curious episode altogether.
We next turn to a character that contrasts strangely
with this erratic being, as sober, restrained, and
business-like as the other was the reverse.
William Wilkie Collins, to give his correct name
259
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
was perhaps of all his followers the most useful and
valuable to Dickens — more useful a good deal than
those greater " star performers," Sir E. Bulwer Lytton,
Charles Reade, and others of such rank. He was gifted
with the painstaking art of working out any fancy
that he devised, and getting out of it all that it was
worth. He had, moreover, much ingenuity and craft,
and could devise an eleborate plot or story, though of
a mechanical sort. He really had no genius and but
little inspiration or romance.*
He began modestly enough, and I remember a
trifling little hand-book of his, " Rambles among
Railways," which was somewhat of what is called the
"Potboiler" sort. But his early novel, "Basil," always
seemed to have more power and dramatic spirit than
anything that came later. It was coarse enough, but
had a certain fire and Zolaesque power, turning on
a wild and hasty marriage made by a man who had
become infatuated by a woman whom he had met in
an omnibus.
Wilkie made his debut in the journal with a very
sensational little story called " The Terribly Strange
Bedstead." A man found himself fastened down in his
bed, and noted the roof gradually descending on him
with the purpose of pressing him slowly to death.
The horrors of such a situation were very graphically
portrayed, and I well recollect going to hear him,
from mere curiosity, recite his " Terribly Strange Bed-
stead " at the old Olympic Theatre. I arrived at the
door just as a very stout, elderly gentleman, qui fait
du ventre, was getting out of a cab. He came on in due
course, but a most singularly inefficient performance
♦ He and his brother Charles were named by their father in quaint fashion
after two painters, Alston and W'ilkio. Box himself favoured this system, calling
his sons after literary personages, thus : Henry Fielding Uickeus, Alfred Tennyson
Dickons, etc
260
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
it was. He had little or no voice, and scarcely attempted
to raise it. He seemed to think that the word
" 6e<fetead " was full of tragic meaning, and we heard
again this " bedstead " repeated till it became almost
comic. It seemed like an elderly gentleman at his
club " boring " his neighbour with a long story of
something " he had seen in the papers." He was
destitute of every qualification for his task. I remember
reporting the scene to my friend Forster, who was
amused and laughed his rhinoceros laugh. As might
be anticipated, the enterprise was not a success. But
all the same, people went to see him.
In the first week in January, 1857, he made a
serious step in his career, and came forth with a long
story — the "Dead Secret" — an interesting, cleverly-
written thing, simply told and without the elaborate-
ness of his longer later works. When Dickens, a few
years later, was starting his new venture. All the
Year Round, he boldly determined to commission a
serial by Wilkie Collins. And the well-known, most
successful " Woman in White " was introduced to the
town under the most favourable conditions. The first
chapter appeared on November 26th, 1859.
I well remember how this elaborate work, which
really made his reputation, was talked about, and
what interest it excited, among ladies particularly.
The author was a scrupulous, painstaking person, and
laboured hard each week to produce his effects. How
excellent too was the name ! True, the critics
laughed at the solemn tricks — the insistence on the
perpetual " Statements " of Hartright and others, and
the long-worded extracts from " the Housekeeper's
Diary." Everybody in this strange book seemed
to be keeping diaries and making statements, or
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
writing papers of some sort. But " it served." He
was particularly proud of his Count Fosco, who was
a mere " twopence coloured " figure, talking a strange
lingo devised by the author, unlike anything known
abroad. However, as I say, " it served." It was
followed by other works, equally elaborate. " No
Name," " The Moonstone," etc., were mostly replicas
of the first, and did not attract nearly so much.
As Wilkie Collins grew older he waxed fat and
portly, and became a large-headed, benevolent-looking
sort of being. But he was too much of the bon-mvant,
and paid in bodily infirmities accordingly. What agonies
of gout he suffered ! This enemy seized on his eyes,
and the pains were excruciating. I once met Charles
Kent just come from visiting him. " His eyes," he said,
" were literally enormous bags of blood ! " When IMiss
Hogarth and her niece were collecting Dickens's letters
for publication, Collins was disinclined to lend his, as
he thought them of sufficient interest to be published
separately. They were issued in America after his
death ; but I was struck with their formality,
which suggests that there was never a substantial
bond of friendship between the two. I have ray
own theory — that Wilkie came at last to think he
was a very great writer, almost on a level with his
chief. However, this may be doing him an injustice,
but it is not at all unlikely. It was hard to relish their
collaboration in the Christmas Numbers and " The Lazy
Tour," where the contrast of styles became really an
injury to Dickens, Collins's being so forced and
pretentious, while Boz had to fit himself as best he
could to his friend's transpontine manner. The
meaning of it all was, I think, that the wearied
Dickens was glad to find someone of good reputation
262
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
who could take some of the heavy work off his hands
and so reUeve him. But there can be no doubt that
the combination was most injurious.
Dickens, ever good natured, did not see how
damaging was this intimate co-operation, how un-
interesting a spectacle it was to the reader. We
would have some columns of Boz's light-hearted
sketches of roadside travel succeeded abruptly by
some of his partner's gloomy stories in the usual
ponderous, self-important manner. This "Lazy Tour"
seemed to be pieced together in a clumsy fashion, the
shces of material being alternated. It is not difficult
to see that Collins was allowed to regulate matters,
owing to his own and Dickens's faith in his " powers of
construction."
Wilkie's humour was of a rather laboured kind,
and contrasted oddly with Boz's gaiety. The latter,
however, fully believed in his companion and heartily
admired him. But " Wilkie " had a sort of priggish
solemnity that often brought a smile. ColUns fancied
that he was " a great Frenchman," and knew the
foreigner's mind thoroughly. Hence that corrupt
jargon of Fosco's broken talk which was evolved out
of his imagination, and never heard in real life. Dickens
could not help imitating his devices, as in the case of
Blandois.
I alway think that Dickens's noble, unselfish,
generous nature expended itself somewhat vainly on
such a character, certainly not endowed with anything
likely to respond to such affection. Not that I knew
him sufficiently to judge him, but he had not the warm
and rather romantic tone of feeling that Boz looked
for ; and I fancy one can detect in the latter's
closing letters a somewhat colder and more business
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
vein. We may note, too, how Collins seemed to
encroach, as it were, and offer direction instead of
accepting it.
Their expedition described in "The Lazy Tour"
was to Cumberland and its fells, and in the course of it
the ordinary accident of a sprained foot befell Collins,
the horrors of which were worked up and magnified
in a rather ludicrous way. They stayed at a little
country inn, and it shows the unvarying, never-
failing influence of Boz that his sparkling sketch of
it should have been reprinted in the place for the
benefit of tourists. On the whole, it cannot be said
that "The Lazy Tour" was a success, or that it added
to Boz's reputation, owing, as I said, to the fact that
there was " too much Collins " in it-
Later it was sad to see how Collins's popularity fell
off. His own special style, that of " The Woman in
White," was quite exhausted, and he was issuing feeble
replicas which brought him, I suspect, but little. He
took to the stage; but his pieces were all too "talk}',"
and showed little dramatic feeling. Such was " Man and
Wife." How well I remember a night at the old Adelphi
when his "Black and White" was produced, and when
the whole Dickens family, full of affectionate partisan-
ship, attended. I see them in the lower omnibus-box,
close to the stage, applauding— trying to believe that
it was a success — Boz's eyeglasses glistening in the
light. I went round to them between acts. It was a fair
piece, but not a success. Another of his efforts was an
original and striking one, " The New Magdalen," given
at the Olympic, somewhat restoring the fortunes of
that house, which that interesting actress. Miss Ada
Cavendish, was then directing. It was preceded by
a short piece of my own.
26-1
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
Alas ! in due time Dickens's eyes opened to the true
nature and gifts of his friend. " I quite agree with
you," he wrote, in the year before his death, " about
' The Moonstone.' The construction is wearisome
beyond endurance, and there is a vein of obstinate
conceit in it that makes enemies of readers."*
Dickens's son-in-law, Charles Alston Collins, eagerly
wished to follow in his brother's footsteps and to be taken
seriously as a literary man. He of course, received
due encouragement. His was a most amiable and even
engaging temperament, but sorely tried by a terrible
disease, which he bore with wonderful patience. He
was, in fact, a permanent invalid, yet he went through
his daily course of life with infinite courage. Forster
gives praise to his contributions, which had a quiet,
placid humour. There was " The Eye Witness," a series
of quaint, half sarcastic pictures of things, mamiers and
whims, amusing enough. Some of his little odd ideas
entertained his family, such as his recipe for curing
sea-sickness, which he would gravely expound as
infaUible if properly and conscientiously carried out.
His explanation of this grotesque remedy always caused
unbounded but good-natured enjoyment. A book of
real merit, were its redundancies carefully shorn away,
was the account of his wedding trip through France in
a light chaise, entitled "A Cruise upon Wheels," which
is truly entertaining and full of gentle humour. It offers
much shrewd observation and many humorous pictures.
But I could see that a literary work was, with him, a
painful thing to engender. His magnum opus was a
novel which his father-in-law good naturedly admitted
to the magazine, a most risky matter, as the amiable
• In some marginalia on Forster's Life Collins speaks rather coldly, and perhaps
with too much severity, of his great friend.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
author had small gifts in that way. I recall Boz, with
an air of mystery, one day inviting me into a room at
his office, "as he wished to have my opinion on an
important matter." We entered, and I saw before me
on the floor one of the great orange placards of the
paper, some four or five feet long, and exhibiting in
great red and glossy black type " Brought to the Bar."
This was " Charley's new story, and now, what do you
say of the title ? " An embarrassing question, as most
people will see it is not attractive, though there is a
sort of double entendre. I see the two faces fixed on
me anxiously, for I was to represent, as it were, the
pubHc, literally the " man in the street," who was
eventually to read the placard. I forget how I extri-
cated myself. Poor suffering fellow ! He was not
long after released from his trials.
CHAPTER XIX
BOZ'S LADY CONTRIBUTORS : MRS. GASKELL, MISS
MARTIXEAU, MRS. LYNN LINTON, GERALDINE JEWSBURY
Boz, who has suppUed us with such delightful scenes
of comedy, was destined to experience in his own person
many a humorous incident, which, even if inconvenient,
he must have relished. Such were his dealings with
those eminent literary ladies — Mrs. Gaskell, Miss
Martineau and Mrs. Lynn Linton. These WTiters were
aggressive and short tempered. I have mentioned
before his asking me for the sheets of my " Life of
Garrick," which he wished to read on his voyage, and
that they were struck oS for him. When he came to the
episode of the great actor's disputes with his three
nagging actresses, he must have thought of the
parallel in his own case, and of his three nagging ladies.
Mrs. Gaskell's finished style and quiet, playful
strain of comedy, her tranquil, humorous treatment
of country life, marked her out as the wTiter that
approached most nearly — at least as nearly as could be
hoped for — to the gifted Jane Austen. Such an
auxiliary was of immense value at starting, but, as will
be noted presently, her assistance had its drawbacks.
This accomplished writer has scarcely had sufficient
justice done to her powers. Boz felt and admired the
beautiful finish and delicacy of her work, though her
style was totally different from his own. It is impossible
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
even to think nowadays of a writer putting forth such
deHcately wrought pieces. Few would be capable
enough to produce such works, and their reception
might be as of the unintelligible.
On January 31st, 1850, he wrote in a flattering
strain inviting her to join him. There was no living
English writer he honestly said, whom he would prefer
to enlist in his corps rather than the authoress of " Mary
Barton," " a book that most profoundly affected and
impressed me." If desired, he could go specially to
Manchester to see her. Here were compliments indeed.
The lady was attractive both in face and person,
had charming manners, with a general sweetness which
gained on everybody. The Editor might therefore
count on the most agreeable relations with his valuable
recruit. She was to prove, unluckily, a deception in this
respect. She showed that she had the fullest confidence
in her own powers, haughtily dealt with him as equal
to equal, and would not " stand any nonsense " where
she fancied her rights were concerned. In spite of
soothing compliments and abundant homage, she was
to be the cause of much worry and trouble to him, and
excellent as her performances were, it may be doubted
whether her assistance was much gain to the paper.
However, she responded in cordial terms, and it was
settled that she was to set out in the very first number
with a short serial entitled " Lizzie Leigh."
There is something quite comical in the awkward
surprise and trouble which must have filled the genial
Editor's soul when it first broke upon him that he had,
as it were, " caught a Tartar." It seemed that the
lady had conceived that she was rather condescending
to the great writer in lending her aid. Troubles speedily
began. All Boz's courteous compliments were thrown
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
away. She stood upon her rights, and would not bate
one of them. There were anxious councils in Wellington
Street, as Wills reported new and haughty demands and
protests on the part of the lady.
She particularly resented " any meddling with her
work," and would coldly request or rather direct that
the proofs should be left as she wrote them, that is
imaltered, an unusual and unreasonable tiring, as the
conductor must always see to the interest of his paper.
The amiable Boz was not accustomed to this de haul
en has style, for the usual tone of contributors was one
of profuse gratitude to this great man for condescending
to amend.
In December, 1851, he had made an alteration
in her paper, changing some compliment to himself
into an allusion to some other Avriter. For with his
name, as he said, on every page of a journal there would
be an impropriety in so mentioning himself. The lady
at once recalled her paper ; but it was then too late,
for, as he said, " it had departed from him," i.e. had
gone to press. " I would do anything," he -wrote,
'' rather than cause you a minute's vexation arising
out of what has given me so much pleasure, and I
sincerely beseech you to think better of it, and not to
fancy that any shade has been thrown on your charming
wTiting by the unfortunate but innocent CD." And
he took an early opportunity of soothing her by praising
another paper of hers.
" If you were not the most suspicious of women,
always looking for soft sawder in the purest metal
of praise, I should call your paper delightful and
couched in the tenderest and most delicate manner.
But behig what you are, I have called it ' A Love
Affair at Cranford,' and sent it to the printer."
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MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Presently she wrote to Wills declaring she must
particularly stipulate not to have her proofs touched
even by Mr. Dickens. " That immortal creature," he
said humorously, " had gone over her proofs with great
pains — had, of course, taken out her stiflings, hard
plungings, lungings, and other convulsions, and had
also taken out her weakenings and damagings of her own
efforts. ' Very well,' said the gifted man, ' she shall
have her own way. But, after it 's published, show her
this proof, and ask her to consider whether her story
would have been the better or the worse for it.' "
In January, 1855, when she had wound up her
story, and they were parting company, he congratulated
her on her power and successes. He hoped, however,
that the little " dissatisfaction with yourself (and me ?)
which beset you for a minute or two once on a time
fails to associate anything disagreeable with Household
Words.''' She had received her honorarium, per Wills,
and CD. evidently had a faint suspicion that this was not
acceptable. It is clear she did not \w\ie to thank him.
So he rather bluntly reminds her : " I trust you found it
satisfactory." These financial duties, he explains, he
had always left to Wills. Then he winds up with this
little pin-prick : " I refer to it not as a matter of form,
but because I sincerely wish everything between us to be
beyond the possibility of misunderstanding or reserva-
tion." Strange words, but obviously a sly reference
to what he might have called her waywardness. But
the whole makes an amusing little drama, full of strokes
of character in two persons of genius. By and by the
asperities were all smoothed away.
Boz long rued the day when he secured the services
of that eminent free-thinking lady, Harriet Martineau,
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
who Avas so totally impracticable, and independent of
everyone. At first all went well, she giving vivid
accounts of factory life, etc., of which she was a
skilled observer. She wrote a goodly number of these
things. But presently were to arise difficulties. It is
odd that Boz should have admitted to a family journal
a writer whose orthodoxy was suspect, and whose
" free thought '' was likely to leaven her Avritings.
But here came a surprise. She offered " The
Missionary," a story of Roman Catholic interest in
which the hero was a Jesuit. Then a curious discussion
arose. Both Editor and Sub-editor " mourned " the
impossibility of publishing it : Wills, as she suggested
with a sneer, because the public would say that Dickens
was turning Roman Catholic, and Wills and Dickens
because they never would publish anything contro-
versial— a reasonable excuse. The matter never was
accommodated. Presently Wills proposed that she
should AATite some papers on the emplojanent of women,
but she explained rather pertly that her views would
seem inconsistent with those which Dickens had
previously expressed, also mth his general idea that
a woman was not to work, but to look pretty. A
more serious incident occurred in the autumn. Asked
for a Avork of fiction for the Christmas Number, this
strange and unsatisfactory lady answered that " she
despised herself as a AATiter of fiction."
She found fresh cause of quarrel in Dickens's
treatment of the Lancashire mill-owners, and their
behaviour to their " hands." In a pamphlet she fell
foul of her late friend and editor, and used very
scurrilous language concerning him and his utterances.
She spoke of his " ignorance, arrogance and cant,''' as
exhibited in papers by himself and " his partner in
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
his disgrace " — Wills — and charged him personally
with " conceit, insolence and wilful one-sidedness."
This vituperation seems almost incredible when
addressed to such a man, and one who had been so
indulgent to her fancies. His answer was a temperate
refutation of her statement, and this amicable excuse
for her outburst : " We have a respect for
Miss Martineau . . . which nothing she can now
say or do will destroy " — and he further claimed the
respect of his readers " as a thing not to be forfeited
for a few hasty words." He good-humouredly heads
his protest, " Our Wicked Mis-statements."
'' They never would publish anything,'''' she went on,
'''fact or fiction, which gave a favourable vieiv of any o tie
under the influence of the Roman Catholic faith."
He would print " not a word in favour of Romanism."
She declared she would have nothing more to do
with Household Words. Boz hoped " that she would
think better of it," and so they parted.
The amazing thing was to find the Miss ^lartineau
of free thought, together with "Mr. Atkinson," her
adopted comrade, not merely displeased with this anti-
Romanist intolerance, but converted into a red-hot
champion and defender of that faith. In spite of her
falling-out with Wills, in a yeax or two he wrote to
beg for one of her stories. She declined, because of a
fresh affront to her new principles whicli had occurred
in the interval. Collins had written a tale called " The
Yellow Mask," in which there was " a wicked priest."
She would not write for them, "no, not if I were to
live twenty years." Enclosing an American cutting,
she says : " H.W. is anti-Catholic on the sly. If the
English people only knew of this bigotrj' his publication
would be ruined. She would as soon write for The
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
Record." She likens them to a Grand Inquisitor.
He does not profess Protestant principles while all the
time pursuing the practices of Jesuitism. Wills said
he saw they could never agree, and so the connection
finally ended.
Here was a strange delusion, for such it certainly
was. The notion that Dickens made such intolerant
announcements was both absurd and untrue. It is
enough to say that Stanfield the painter, a Catholic,
was one of his dearest, most cherished friends, that
I also was his friend, and so was Charles Kent. I may
give my testimony that he was infinitely pleased with
and used my account of a Jesuit School ("School Days
atSaxonhurst," seventh edition), and that he dispatched
me on a sort of vSpecial Commission to Rome, giving
me a perfectly free hand to set down what I liked
that was favourable, and I used his permission liberally.
At the same time, I admit there were now and then
anti-Catholic sketches which pained.
Another of his female ^vriters was that clever lady
]\Irs. Lynn Linton — a little eccentric in her appearance
which might have served for ]\Irs. Jellaby in "Bleak
House," though as we know this character was intended
for Miss Martineau. When I produced a Life of Garrick,
Dickens of his own good nature said that it should
be reviewed in his magazine, and that it might
be done well and sufficiently put it into Mrs. Linton's
hands, and very well done it was. These kindly
" lifts " were like his own kindly self. It would
be difficult to do full justice to the varied gifts of
this remarkable person, all but forgotten now. A
correspondent in Paris for an English paper when
onh' two -and- twenty, her father gave her just a year's
273
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
allowance, and she went forth to seek her fortune as
a literary woman. She began at once to vrrite stories.
Her work, "Joshua Davidson," a sort of free-thought
story, had an enormous success. " Patricia Kemball,"
"Under which Lord ? " are names that come back to us
as familiar. But she is best known by her "spicy"
papers WTitten for the Saturday Eeviezv, "The Girl of
the Period," etc. To All the Year Round she was
accustomed to contribute carefully-done analyses on
books, and essays of a thoughtful kind. There was yet
another connection between the conductor and this
contributor, Gad's Hill, the house he so fondly loved,
having been originally in the possession of the Lynn
family.
With such a personality there was likely to be
a little friction, and it speedily came. She had been
given a work of Forster's to review, and could
not resist inserting a few rather malicious touches.
Boz saw that the lady wished to use her opportunity
for the purpose of gratifying a little spleen. But how
loyal he was ! The typical editor would have simply
written back, " You must fit in some compliments to
Forster and his book. He will expect it." But Dickens
was hurt that anyone should have thought of using his
paper to wound a friend. The lady having a reputation,
he did not presume to alter it.
Here was his rebuke—
" Although your article on our old friend is so inter-
esting as a piece of personal remembrance, it does not
satisfy my desires as a Review of Forster's book. It could
hardly be otherwise than painful to Forster that one
of his old literary friends, and certainly of all others
his most intimate and confidential, should insert in
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
these pages our account of Landor — or touch the
subject — without a word of commendation of a
biography which has cost to my knowledge a world of
care and trouble. I find from your letters to my son
that you do not think well of the said book. Admitting
that the Life was to be written at all, I do, and it is
because I think well of it, that I am staggered and
stopped short by your paper, and fear that I must turn
to and \\Tite one in its stead."
There was yet another more interesting lady con-
tributor, whom we find to our surprise the great Editor
was eager to enclose in his net. This was a gifted
^\Titer as she seemed to him, for he lavishes great
praises on her. She was, in fact, Geraldine Jewsbury,
better known by her odd connection with the Carlyles.
She was about forty when Dickens approached her, and
had \mtten a few novels. He wrote in the most
flattering terms, saying he was a reader of hers and set
great store by her and valued her highl}^, with other
compliments, and in fact pressed her to assist him.
This " tatter of a creature " — Carlyle's rough description
— does not seem to have furnished any substantial
help, for in her letters, in which she usually
pours forth everything about herself, there are no
allusions to this application. I fancy that as she
was in the height of her eccentricity, Boz did not
find it convenient to enter into any arrangement with
the lady.
Still, this odd but gifted woman was eager to figure
in magazines, and to get her papers accepted. Strange,
therefore, is it to find her neglecting his very inviting
and flattering offers. This she did in a curious, rather
mysterious fashion, perhaps suited to her odd
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
character. She told him that she had something that
might suit — a short tale — which Mrs. Carlyle had in
keeping, and was to send on to him. " Anyhow,
let him see it, and the devil fly away with it for me ! "
Mrs. Carlyle, however, found objections to the storj-, it
would seem, as regards the proprieties, a failing which
did not suit the new journal. So she writes impetuously,
bade her burn it, and tell Dickens that she did so by
direction. Further, that he must not expect anything
from her, giving the odd reason, at least as I interpret
it, that she could not write with effect save in a style
that would not suit Household Words. Strange creature,
indeed ! And yet not without interest, certainly
clever, and at times brilliant.
Who now thinks of a wTiter named Julia Kavanagh ?
I well recall when it was correct to send to the
libraries for her last novel, whose merits were dis-
cussed at dinner parties. She worked more profitably
for the publishers with such things as English Women
of Letters, French Women of Letters, Women of This
and That, Forget-me-nots. She was considered a very
" respectable " wTiter.
At that time i\Irs. Norton and her wrongs filled
a large space in the public eye. What a clever woman,
and what a strikingly handsome one ! I was struck
with her likeness to the noble classical head of Grisi
as Norma. I knew her very well. Once she read a
story of mine through, which I took as a great
compliment, even if she had merely affected to get
through it. There was an odd link between her and
Boz, which few know. Did she ever recall that the
action of Bardwell v. Pickwick was based on her own
case, and parodied many of the incidents ? Buzfuz's
cross-examination was only a reproduction. This new
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
situation must have amused Dickens. He certainly
took the side of the lady.
Another wTiter of graceful verse was Miss Kate
Macready, who in 185G sent him a little poem, which
had much pleased her father. Dickens, no doubt to
please him, wrote of it with the greatest cordiality.
He would be " truly delighted " to publish it, and it
should go into the very next number they made up.
CHAPTER XX
BOBERT LYTTON, CHAKLES READE, HARRISON AIKSWORTH,
WILLIAM JERDAN, ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER
The son of the first Lord Lytton, Robert Lytton as
he was best knowTi, a gifted man, ambassador and poet,
and father of the present Earl, also of literary tastes,
I knew fairly well, and have stayed with him. I may
say I have known the three generations. Robert
Lytton had a cultivated taste and a genuine spirit
of poesy. He was a great admirer of Dickens, and
used to furnish contributions to both journals,
in prose and verse. It was, however, whispered
about— or rather stated openly in the Press — that his
productions were not quite original, but adaptations
from foreign languages. The truth, I fancy, was that
he was attracted by any striking narrative or poetical
picture written by other clever persons, and believed
he could deal with them in superior fashion after his
methods. He had an abundance of literary baggage.
His " Lucile " is a long poem of some thousands of
lines, yet he was publicly charged with plagiarising
some thirty or forty lines from a French poet's work.
Now I have compared the two performances, and can
say that the EngUsh poet did nothing more than take
the idea and tone of the passage, with a few of the
images.
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
But in this connection is found in one of Dickens's
letters an account of a rather unlucky incident, or
coincidence, but which shows his unfailing delicacy
and good nature. He had received, with a sort of
elation, a contribution of his friend, which he begged
leave to entitle " The Disappearance of John Acland,"
and evidently expected great things from it. It was
to '"go in " at once. But a month later came a
communication to the Editor from some inquisitor that
the AVTiter had read the tale in Chambers's Journal, as
he believed. On this Dickens wrote in the kindest
way, professing the fullest faith in his friend, but told
him bluntly that " he had not the faintest doubt that
the statement was true," and that the main part of the
story had been printed somewhere. Still, his friend
must not think that he made any complaint. It was
but a natural circumstance where a true story had
once got into circulation, and into various hands
(it had even been told at table). " There is always a
possibility of such a malignant conjunction of stars
where it is a true story." So he comforted his friend.
■■ Let us shuffle cards and begin again." He desired
to hear from him as soon as possible with other
contributions. At the same time, he concluded that the
only thing to be done was to bring the story to a
finale as speedily as possible, and so be rid of it.
The author could not have felt comfortable as he
read this ambiguous letter.
It Avas natural that Boz should apply for aid to
another old friend and comrade, Douglas Jerrold of
the bitter tongue, as ready always as bitter. When
Boz made his request, pointing out that all the papers
were to be " strictly anonymous," the cynic replied,
pointing to the headlines, "To be sure, for don't I
279
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
read ' Charles Dickens ' at the top of every page,"
which was the fact.
No one could say that the conductor did not claim
the assistance of the best talent, in the way of fiction,
that was to be obtained. He was not one of those who
fancied that reputation was a fixed quantity, and that
to allow a share of it to another was to abstract it
from one's own. It was in this spirit that in 1863 he
introduced a novel of Charles Reade's to his readers.
This was the vigorous and much admired " Hard
Cash," written in the author's almost truculent style,
where every sentence seems a challenge or defiance,
and vehemence is the prevailing tone. This at times
passionate style, a continued protest, as though
existing social life were one monstrous grievance,
seems exaggerated enough now. Dickens was pleased
with the work. " I must write you one line," he vTote in
September, 1863, " to say how interested I am in your
story, and to congratulate you upon its admirable art,
and its surprising grace and vigour, and to hint my hope
at the same time that you will be able to find leisure for
a little dash for the Christmas number. It would be
really a great and true pleasure to me if you could."
Some of Reade's rather vehement theories, how-
ever, he felt himself obliged as Editor to disclaim in
the following amiable caution and corrective, relating to
a " work of fiction first published in these pages as a
serial story, with the name of an eminent writer attached
to it. When one of my literary brethren does me the
honour to undertake such a task, I hold that he executes
it on his own responsibility, and for the sustainment of
his own reputation, and I do not consider myself at
liberty to exercise that control over his text which
I claim as to other contributors. — Charles Dickens."
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There is something a little awkward for the author
in this disclaimer, for such it is, and it could hardly
have been acceptable to the impetuous Reade. We,
however, can read between the lines.
Charles Reade was an exuberant, highly-gifted man,
full of a varied talent. I have noted, indeed, that most
successful wTiters of fiction are often exuberant and
enthusiastic — these qualities seeming to constitute a
" motive force " behind their talent. He was
wonderfully versatile and clever in many ways, a
vehement controversialist, especially when dealing
with those whom he styled contemptuously " the
criticasters." He Avas something of a dramatist also.
I see his tall, commanding figure now, his grizzled
beard and curious forms of speech. He was certainly
eccentric. Once, passing by his house at Albert Gate,
I noticed a crowd round the little garden of his
" forecourt," and found that on the wall beneath
the railing he had painted in large characters the
words " Naboth's Vineyard." This seemed enigmati-
cal, but it appeared that his landlord wished to
" expropriate " him, and level the Avhole terrace.
This was just like him. It was a satisfaction to
himself merely, for no one understood what the
allusion was. When he had conceived a scheme
he overflowed with it, and fancied that everj^one
ought also to overflow with it. I once lost a truly
interesting dinner experience owing to this idio-
syncrasy of his. It was at John Forster's, and we
had, I recollect, Anthony Trollope, Elwin, Editor of the
Quarterly, and some more of note. I found myself
beside Reade. " And now," said I to myself, " I
shall have an interesting time of it." But it was not
so to be. It fell out that some days before he
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
had picked up an old, rusted folio, we21 Imowii to
stall haunters, " The Annesley Cause," with the recovery
of the title, abduction of the true heir, etc., all set
forth, and was so enchanted with his find that he could
think or talk of nothing else. And so during the whole
of dinner and after it he rehearsed to me all the
incidents, the testimony of the witnesses, with genuine
indignation at the barbarous treatment of the heir —
" Did I ever hear anything like it ? " — until I was
wearied to death.
He had already conceived an absorbing drama,
also a powerful story to be made of it, and in due
course both made their appearance as "The Rightful
Heir," neither much affecting the public. All his
pieces were weak, without spirit, suggesting wTitten
pages cut out of a novel, different from true dramatic
dialogue. His one successful drama was "Masks and
Faces " (afterwards published as a novel under the title of
"Peg Woffington"), but that was owing to Tom Taylor,
who fashioned it into proper shape. Some of his
pieces were dreadful, such as " Shilly Shally "
(Phoebus, what a name !), which I had to review
in The Observer, — a painful difficulty, as he was wont
to make such matters personal. Poor Reade, he might
well afford to talk through a whole dinner, since he
dared not eat. 1 recall a letter of his excusing himself
from coming to dine : " Ah, little do you know
of the torture of a man with no digestion at all." *
Reade, as is well known, made a great name by his
" Never Too Late to Mend," an exciting tale. It entitled
♦ Rerently I found a )il.\ster bust of him, which I had attempted
during his lifoiime, and thrown aside. It seemed to me a good likeness, so I
finished it, had it cast in bronze, and presented it to Magdalen College, Oxford,
where ho had been Fellow and also \"icc-Chancellor. The pleasant Ur. Warren
■' of many friends," then Vice-Chanoollor, held a festival for the ceremony of
presentation, when there were speeches, recollections, etc., and a very agreeable
day was passed.
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
liim with his other great work, " The Cloister and the
Hearth," to be put after Dickens, Bulwer Lytton,
Thackeray, and to be inchided in the grand novehst
quartet.
Most brilhant, perhaps, of this briUiant roll may be
counted Talfourd, one of Boz's own circle, and one for
whom he cherished equal affection and admiration.
In these prosaic times of ours we can hardly conceive
of the gifts which some of these geniuses united in their
characters. This Thomas Noon Talfourd was at once
poet, essayist, biographer, critic, dramatist, and
lawj^er, and, more remarkable still, was successful in
all departments. His dramas, conceived in the
true vein of poesy, were popular ; his criticisms,
dramatic and others, were of the first rank ; his
biography of Lamb is a standard work, and conceived
in a classical spirit ; he was successful at the Bar,
became a Serjeant, and finally a judge — wonderful
indeed ! Dickens had deep and sincere affection for
him — wtness the admiring and cordial dedication of
" Pickwick," the author's first story. He wrote a touch-
ing obituary of him. Who will forget his beautiful drama
of " Ion," originally set off by Macready's fine acting ?
Most of us of that generation have rejoiced in the
stirring adventurous novels of W. Harrison Ainsworth,
a genuine wTiter, who firmly believed in the
melodramatic adventures he set forth. He deserves
far more appreciation than he has received, for he was
in sooth a sort of English Alexander Dumas. The
latter has long since fallen out of fashion, and I fear
nowadays no one reads Ainsworth. He was of
Dickens's " set," one of the group of eager, promising
youths who seemed to advance in step together, for
a time at least. He and Boz were on the most
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
intimate terms, but he seems to have gradually fallen
away from the coterie, and in Dickens's prosperous
days he is altogether lost sight of. I have always
fancied that a chronic impecuniosity may have had
something to do with it.
But it is only recently that Ave have learned to appre-
ciate the merits of this striking and dramatic romancer
{" Romancier "), and particularl}' his prominent influence
and high position among the literary men of his time.
Forster, Jerdan and Ainsworth were invited to join in the
festivity which celebrated the winding-up of "Pickwick,"
and all three receiA^ed bound copies of the work. An
interesting account of him has been given by Mr. ElUs,
which shows clearly that there was then a greater
spirit and enthusiasm in literary work than exists noAV.
We are shoAvn what ardent, animated creatures were
these brilliant young men — how eager in their schemes,
how united to each other, and how hospitable. It has
been thought strange, and naturally so, that in Forster's
Biography this once celebrated writer and his intimate
relations with Boz and his friends should have been so
ignored. I recall a pleasant dinner at Frederick
Chapman's, at Twickenham, I think, Avhere were
Forster and Browning. When the latter said casually,
" I met a. strange, shabby creature to-day, which on
examination resolved itself into Ainsworth," Forster
merely said in his most casual way, " No, really, did
you ? God bless me ! " and added nothing more.
A Avriter on Indian topics was Meadows Ta3''lor,
author of a once much-talked-of book, Confessions of
a Thug. I knew him pretty well, and had had many
a talk with him on his adventurous life. Bayle St. John
was also one of these writing travellers.
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
William Jerdan was an occasional contributor. He
was Editor of the Literary Gazette, at one time a great
power. He was a friend and admirer of Boz, and one
of the earliest followers of Pickwick, assisting at the
winding-up dinner of Pickwick. In that diverting
chronicle there is a veiled allusion to an odd escapade
of his which few wot of. Mr. Pickwick, it will be
recollected, had his portrait painted and hung up at the
club, intended to commemorate the Cobhamstone
discovery, "a portrait, by the way, which he did not
wish to be destroyed when he grew a few years older."
A highly cryptic allusion this which has "intrigued"
many. It was retained in the early editions, but was
soon omitted altogether. Still, what did it mean ?
The story is a strange one, and quite Pickwickian.
Machse had painted a portrait of Sir J. Soane and
presented it to the Literary Fund, where it was hung
up in the Board Room. It was said that Sir John was
quite content with the compliment, until some officious
friends persuaded him that it was an unflattering
likeness, and, as it were, " a libel " on his features.
Inflamed by these suggestions, he requested the
Committee to remove it, and on their refusing to
do so, announced that he would no longer subscribe
to the funds. A friend of his, this Jerdan, then took
up the matter, and, making his way to the Board Room,
cut the picture to pieces ! This wanton and barbarous
act, which decided the question in dispute, appears
to have had no serious consequences for the author,
and after some threatenings the matter was dropped.*
* Dickens was ever inclined to such riddles and allusions. Thus, in his
account of the Seren Dials in the Sketches he described a mysterious lodger " never
known to buy anything beyond an occasional pen, except half pints of coffee,
penny loaves, and ha'porths of ink, so his fellow- lodgers naturally suppose him to
be an author, and rumours are current in the Dials IhcU he writes Tpotms for
Mr. Warren." Another instance of his fondness for making mystic allusions to the
disastrous blacking episode.
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
I knew well Mrs. Procter, nee Anne Skepper ( an
odd name enough), and one which corresponded with
her nature. Her letters were always amusing.
The history of the Procter family is truly interesting
and not a little romantic. The father was an elegant
poet and essayist, friend of "Elia" and of his set, a
cultivated writer in many ways ; the wife, a woman
of extraordinary cleverness and shrewd observation
and unusual acerbity of speech. " Our Lady of Bitter-
ness," she was sometimes called. Her daughter,
Adelaide Anne, was a poetess of charming tone, grace
and feeling, filled with a genuine rehgious feeling, to
which her all but holy life responded. There was a
second daughter, who, I think, made no particular
mark. One could have wished, in making a complete
picture of Adelaide Anne, that she should have had
personal charm of face and figure, but her face was
rather plain, though not uninspired.
How romantic is the little story that Boz used to
tell his friends of how he came to discover, in a humble,
obscure WTiter of verses, a sort of fairy princess whom
he had known all the time. He recounts it thus in a
pleasant tale addressed to the authoress herself : —
" Only yesterday week, when we were ' making up '
'The Poor Travellers,' as I sat meditatively poking the
office fire, I said to him, ' Wills, have you got that
Miss Berwick's proof back of the little sailor's song ? '
' No,' he said. ' Well, but why not ? ' I asked him.
' Why, you know,' he answered, ' as I have often told
you before, she don't live at the place to which her
letters are addressed, and so there 's always difficulty
and delay in communicating with her.' ' Do you
know what age she is ? ' I said. Here he looked
286
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
unfathomably profound, and returned, ' Rather
advanced in life.' ' You said she was a governess,
didn't you ? ' said I. To which he rephed in the most
emphatic and positive manner, ' A governess.' He
then came and stood in the corner of the hearth, with
his back to the fire, and dehvered himself like an
oracle concerning you.
" He told me that early in life (conveying to me
the impression of about a quarter of a century
ago) you had your feelings desperately wounded by
some cause, real or imaginary — ' It does not matter
which,' said I, with the greatest sagacity — and that
you had then taken to writing verses. That you were
of an unliappy temperament, but keenly sensitive to
encouragement. That you WTote after the educational
duties of the day were discharged. That you
sometimes thought of never -\\Titing any more. That
you had been away for some time ' with your
pupils.' That your letters were of a mild and
melancholy character, and that you did not seem to
care as much as might be expected about money.
All this time I sat poking the fire with a wisdom upon
me absoluteh'^ crushing ; and finally I begged him to
assure the lady that she might trust me with her real
address, and that it would be better to have it now, as
I hoped our further communications, etc., etc., etc.
You must have felt enormously wicked last Tuesday,
when I, such a babe in the wood, was unconsciously
pratthng to you. But you have given me so much
pleasure, and have made me shed so many tears, that
I can only think of you now in association with the
sentiment and grace of your verses."
This Adelaide Anne Procter, whose dramatic and
287
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
touching verses have since enjoyed such popularity,
and were introduced to the pubUc by a preface ^^Titten
by Dickens himself, was an interesting woman. Slie
had true religious and devotional sentiment, and later
became an earnest Catholic. Her life was, indeed,
one of sacrifice and suffering. Her verses hold a
special place in pubUc estimation, and are still in
much favour for recitations from their dramatic and
earnest tone, as well as for the originahty of subject
and treatment.
CHAPTER XXI
EDMUND YATES. HOGARTH. ANDREW HALLIDAY.
GRENVILLE MURRAY. ROBERT HAWKER. WILLIAM AND
MARY HOWITT.
Edmund Yates and G. A. Sala were the two gay and
intrepid frondeurs of Dickens's journals. Their lack of
the sense of responsibility gave him some trouble
which he bore good-humouredly enough, for he liked
his " Two Cossacks," who, once having secured their
serial "run," were inclined to take freedoms. Yates
■RTote nearly twenty novels which were spirited enough.
It was curious that he should have died at the Savoy
Hotel, and his handsome wife at the Carlton. He must
have been a man of enterprise as well as of some genius
to have founded a new and successful form of publica-
tion— that of the Society Paper — which has now held
its ground for thirty years. The system has leavened
all journals, and has reached its acme in our
time. He belonged to the jocund clique formed
of the two Broughs, two Drapers, Halliday and
others. The very name Yates seemed to me to connect
us with Garrick and his time, and while his connections
were theatrical, and associated with the old Adelphi,
Dickens really liked him, and always used his services
for description of some striking event, such as the
Heenan and Sayers fight or an account of the Derby,
and no one could do these things better. He was " on "
all manner of papers, and wrote farces for the theatres
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
with his friend Montagu WilUams, and very Hvely
farces they were. Later he collected his clever sketches
in a couple of agreeable volumes. But his chief clever-
ness was shown in his contriving to live on his slender
receipts. He never " went under," as it is called.
The unfortunate Thackeray episode involved his friend
Dickens, who loyally and manfully stood by him,
though thereby he sacrificed his friendship with his
great rival. But there is no doubt that Yates Avas
in the A^Tong, and that the affair was badly managed,
and with too much heat.*
After a long series of struggles — ups and downs — -
but all the while keeping his head above water, he was
lucky in making one grand coup. I recall meeting him
on board a steamer bound for Calais, when he confided
to me a project of his. " I am at last all right," he
said, " and on my feet ! I have struck oil." And then
he related how he had set up The World, and that the
notion had " caught on." And so it had, for it was
a success from the start. He had long, in the
Illustrated Times, adopted the system of supplying
"gossipy" social notes as a "snapper up" of trifles,
and very amusing were his snappings up. His unlucky
sketch of Thackeray was of the future World pattern.
In the Times he signed always " A Lounger at the
Clubs," which amused Boz wonderfully. I once
heard him say: "Droll notion that lounging at the
clubs, for Edmund, who does not belong to a
single club." There was no malice in the speech, but
these inconsistencies were with Boz irresistible. You
would see his eyes beginning to twinkle with fun,
* An impartial person familiar with the inciilcnt must decide against
Thackeray, who actually made it a charge against Dickens that he had given advice
to Yates in the matter !
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
then his cheeks wrinkling with anticipatory enjoy-
ment. The jest was coming, and must out at last.
But Yates was perfectly right in his anticipations.
The journal Avas a prodigious success, and for the rest
of his days he was to live at his ease and in comfort.
Sufficient importance has hardly ever been allowed
to the very considerable position held by Boz's
father-in-law, George Hogarth, who, from every point
of view, might be considered a rather remarkable
person. As a solicitor he had disentangled Sir Walter
Scott's affairs, and won the praise of the novelist for his
useful sagacity. He had marked literary tastes,
associating with Wilson and others. He had a good
knowledge of music, could criticise, compose, play the
violincello. He was at last engaged on the Morning
Chronicle. The gifts of the young Dickens attracted
him, and when he became director of the paper he
gave him the commission to write some of the lively
papers which helped to make Boz famous. For this
Boz made due recompense when he had the opening, for
when editing Bentley^s, he inserted Hogarth's rather
dry papers, chiefly drawn from old French memoirs.
He also found his way to Household Words. The
young wTiter became his son-in-law, and got his
new relation appointed to the post of musical critic
to the Daily News. He Avas also connected Avith the
Illustrated London News as musical critic.
Hogarth died from a fall doAvnstairs curiously
enough in the very j'^ear of his son-in-laAv's death.
His Avife Avas a daughter of George Thomson, Avell
remembered for his musical connection Avith Burns,
and she brought him no less than fourteen children.
His musical, scientific and other AA'orks form almost
a library. This record is rather a singular one, and
291
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
all but brings Boz into touch wdth Sir Walter Scott
himself,
Scott lived sufficiently long to meet the young
writer, Dickens, but Miss Hogarth has assured me
that she never heard that they had met. This is only
a negative presumption, perhaps ! I have an impression
that they must have met, that they ought to have met !
I cannot understand how a clever writer on such
intimate terms with Scott as Hogarth could not have
taken a sort of pride in introducing his young friend.
Dickens had paid a visit or two to Edinburgh before
Scott's death.
In collecting together this band of versatile followers,
Dickens gives further proof of his ability and tact, and
yet in selecting and testing their merits he must have
added yet another load to his editorial labours. When
we survey the abundant list, one is astonished at their
ability and versatility. Take " Jack " Hollingshead,
for instance. He was a journalist to begin with, and
what is called a " smart " one. He was " on " the
rather lively, if not brilliant Illustrated Times, Avritten
by a number of ever-young Bohemians— Edmund
Yates, two Broughs and others who admired and
followed Dickens very closelj^ notably at Christmas
time, when they would describe with affectionate
pathos the return of the wanderer on Christmas
Eve, celebrated in wassail and other drinks. " Jack "
wrote plays and farces, and WTote them well. He was
also dramatic critic of the Daily News. It will be^seen
from the character of most of his ^vritings that he well
deserved the name " Practical John." His chief works
were "Ragged London," "Plain English," "Concise
History of the Exhibition of 1851," " Odd Journeys
in and out of London," etc. All these were full of
292
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
spirit and statistical knowledge, and he was accordingly-
valued by Dickens as a " safe " %vriter. But his most
important achievement was the Gaiety Theatre, a name
copied from the Theatre de la Gaiete, which flourished
in Paris under the Empire, and whose metier was the
exliibition of crowds of fyoung women, though it is
only fair to say that he also favoured " the legitimate."
Still the credit — or discredit — of the system is certainly
due to this entrepreneur*
I was glad to meet him just before his death at a
Boz Club dinner, when I found him fresh and brilliant
as ever, and where he presently delivered a cheery
speech of reminiscences. That was about the opening
of the present centur}^ Unhappily, these pleasant
channels of memory are now all closed up, and there
is no one but myself to call up such reminiscences.
Andrey Halliday was a dour, hard-headed Scot,
whom Dickens found most useful to him in emergencies ;
as when he put him on to the duty of finishing off Sala's
derelict novel " Quite Alone." I recall him at the close of
the melancholy sale of Dickens's effects, when he trium-
phantly showed me one of the " Pickwick Ladles " which
he had secured, out of the half dozen "put up," for
about fifty pounds or so. His articles were always
practical and business-like, but with little or no fancy
• He knew a good deal of the internal life of " the office." Scarcely a postman
passed the office without leaving a bundle of manuscript, sometimes small, like a
roly-poly jam pudding, sometimes large, like a small bolster. These " voluntary
contributions," amounting to several hundreds in the course of the year, were
always opened and looked at. I am justified in saying that during five
years only two manuscripts were accepted from outside contributors, one
of which had t« be almost re-written, and the other was used with a little
editorial alteration. This statement may favour the idea that Dickens's journal
was a " close borough," open only to a select few who had earned a public
reputation ; but such a conclusion would be quite unjust. The conductor (Charles
Dickens) and his assistant (W. H. Wills) were always only too anxious to discover
new contributors — men with new ideas, fresh enthusiasm, and unhackneyed
style — and Charles Dickens was the last man to say, as Thackeray did when he
was forming his Cornhill Magazine staff, " I am afraid there are only a certain
number of cabs upon the stand." Thackeray said it in no unkind spirit.
293
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
or imagination. His strength lay in the drama. He
A\TOte many effective little pieces which were highly
popular, but he particularly distinguished himself by his
adaptations from Scott's and Dickens's novels, such as
"Amy Robsart " from " Kenilworth," and "Little
Em'ly" from " Copperfield." This latter was a par-
ticularly good and effective piece, set oflF by some
admirable acting. A grotesque American actor made
an extraordinary, vivid portrait of IMicawber, richly
coloured, and perfectly realising the author's idea, though
I believe Boz was not quite satisfied. There was also a
sketch of Rosa Dartle given with much intensity and
accuracy by an actress named Addison. Emery too
was excellent as Emily's guardian. The whole was
highly popular, and it seemed to prove that nearly all
Dickens's stories are well suited to the stage, provided
they are treated by skilled and capable dramatists and
actors. The adaptation, of course, needs the very
highest ability, chiefly in compression and in seizing
on the vital elements. I must say that Dickens scarcely
ever seemed to relish or approve the attempts made to
treat his stories, though he might have considered that
even an imperfect representation was useful to his
reputation, and that the audience could always supply
deficiencies from memory.*
Albert Smith also found his way into the company,
but to no great extent. This cheerful writer, who
certainly contributed to " the public stock of harmless
pleasure," had already furnished Dickens with a
popular model of handbook ridiculing " Gents "
and others — " Natural Histories," he called them. Boz
* Dickens would hiive been UiK'ily pleased and flattered could I have set before
him at the time the eollection I made later of these dramatised versions, for their
number is incredible. It is not merely that all his liooks have been turned into
plays, but that of many there are seven or eight versions — and hardly one story
without two or three. Pickwick, most of all, defies the adapter.
294
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
had been issuing little manuals, sketches of " Young
Gentlemen," " Young Ladies," etc.
In 1854 Dickens was to make one of his happiest
" finds." A stormy character, Grenville Murray, a
rather doubtful sort of diplomatist, who used his
profession for finding material for " copy," became
connected with the journal. Wills taking him under
his patronage, used to touch up and partly write
some trifling foreign sketches, which were read with
some pleasure. But in 1854 Murray was able to
proceed unassisted on his own coiu'se, and produced a
very brilliant series of diplomatic sketches of his life
at Constantinople, in which Sir Stratford Canning,
with whom he had serious quarrels, was ridiculed
as Sir Hector Stubble. This series was continued for
a long time — indeed, made quite a sensation — and
was much admired for its colour and vigour. But for the
protection of Lord Palmerston he would have forfeited
his position. Scurrility, however, was his foible, and
it is said that the type set up by The World, Vanity
Fair, and other journals, was of his devising and
invention. The " Roving Englishman " became
famous.
Eoz was often brought into trouble by the
tumultuous excesses of his writers ; but I am
convinced, though he extricated himself admirably,
it was always at heavy cost ; for, being of a nervous
nature, he could not endure suspense. As he told me,
rather than " have it hanging over him " he was ever
for " settling " a matter out of hand, and at any cost.
Some libel brought Murray a horse-whipping on a
club steps ; this, with other scandals, led to his quitting
the country, and he died abroad.
Another interesting contributor was that strange.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
almost romantic character, the Vicar of Morwenstow,
whose life and -wTitings have laid such a captivating
charm on friends and readers. His sincerity and high
faith saved him from being a true, genuine eccentric,
though, in the popular sense, eccentric he certainly was.
To the general public he is best known by the familiar
chorus, " And Shall Trelawney Die ? " Avhich has
always been a favourite quotation, and with the
authority of which he is usually credited. It is, as a
fact, some two hundred years old or more. Hawker, it
seems, had incorporated the lines in a clever " modern
antique " ballad, which had attracted the praise and
notice of Macaulay and Sir Walter Scott, but mainly
on account of the taking burden or chorus, which they
accepted as the work of the A\Titer.
About the year 1852 this ballad attracted Dickens's
notice, and it duly appeared in Household Words, thus
commencing a connection that was to last for nearly
thirty years. Boz was eager for more in the same
Cornish vein. Thus Hawker, " There is a stir with
Dickens as to my song," referring apparently to the
" Tre Pol and Pen " chorus : "I am in cordial
correspondence with Dickens, and I am to contribute
to Household Words, and cannot send MS. too often."
The Vicar was diligent, sending chiefly " breezy "
Cornish articles, prose and verse.
John Forster, as we have seen, for a time was
one of the partners in Household Words, but he
was in truth rather a patron of the concern,
occasionally contributing a paper. In one of these
ventures he was a little unlucky. It was he who had
furnished an account of this very Trelawney ballad,
referred to above, but fell into the mistake of assuming
that Hawker's additions were a portion of the genuine
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
old fragment ! Boz chuckled with enjoyment. " Of
course, he makes out," he A\Tote sarcastically, " that
there is a positive merit in having made the blunder,
and that if it really has been the old, old ballad, his
intention would rather have failed upon the whole.
I have taken the liberty of assaulting this conclusion
between the eyes, and knocking it over head and
heels."* Boz always literally revelled in his friend's
oddities.
The worthy Vicar seems to have become troublesome
to the indefatigable Wills, the sub-editor, being ahvays
pettishly disappointed if his contribution was not
instantly accepted. He would make complaint to his
friends, and he would also grumble at the pay, complain-
ing of the ten shillings sent him for a copy of verses,
though this was the general scale of the paper. He
likened it to the remuneration given by a solicitor to
his scriveners. The ordinary poetaster's lines are
about of the value that the same amount of space
would cover in prose, and were rated accordingly,
and here it may be said that Dickens's treatment of
his contributors was truly liberal, and as just as it was
liberal. For an ordinary paper by a " trading " hand
he would allow a pound a page, and this was high,
for the page was a very " light " one. I, however,
received more than this, and superior writers were
dealt with on quite a different scale.
Another contributor of an occasional kind was
Florence ]\Iarryat, daughter of the well-known sea
novehst. She also %vrote stories which were much read,
besides a few light articles for the journal. One of her
modes of support was going round with a sort of
" show " or entertainment. Another contributor's
♦ R. Lehmann, p. 90.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
name which, as the saying is, " touches a chord," is that
of Lady Dufif Gordon, a very clever woman of whom,
in my j^outh, we used to hear a great deal. Everything
seemed to be " by Lady Duff Gordon " — travels, stories,
letters — but above all she had the odd taste of being
a perpetual translator, even of works on such stiffish
subjects as Niebhur's Roman History. I fancy she
did a good deal of what is called " job " work.
In 1855 a Miss King sent him a story which he much
fancied. "I think it possesses very great merit," he
wrote. But there were serious objections. " The people
do not sufficiently work out their own purposes in
dialogue and dramatic action. You are too much
their exponent." The boy was a little too slangy, but he
regarded it as the author's intention to elevate such a
character and soften it.
The amiable and interesting Howitts — William and
Mary — were also in the corps of contributors, and their
tranquil, unexcited stj^le had admirers. They were
the chosen and accepted interpreters of the calm
country life and rural scenes. " My dear Sir," Boz
wrote to William Howitt in November, 1850, " I am
extremely sorry, on reading your story, to find that we
have anticipated it, and have a paper on the same
subject (by Home) in a number which has been at press
some days. I like yours very much, and know the
Captain perfectly. Nothing but what I have mentioned
would have stood in its wa^^" Next day, however, he
changed his mind. " I will read your paper — an
admirable little thing — immediatel}^ and also let j'ou
know about the space in the Xmas number. Pray
let me assure you that there is nothing at all like the
Captain in Home's paper."
His friend and worshipper, Mary Boyle, I used to
CONTRIBUTORS TO THK TWO JOURNALS
meet at Gad's Hill. A quaint, curious little personage,
always eager for amateur plays and country house
visits. Every night she enjoyed the special privilege
of receiving a kiss from the amiable Boz when wishing
him good-night, coming up to him shyly like a child,
with her candle in her hand. The spirituclle IVIrs.
Browning chose for the subject of a poem, as^,I believe
her single contribution, Hiram Power's Greek Slave,
then attracting attention and exaggerated praise.
Mrs. Chisholm, notable for her interest in^the emigra-
tion of women, also wrote for him.
The editor found a very useful assistant for a
certain kind of work in the Rev. IMr. White, who was a
sort of handyman, one on whom he could alwaj's
depend for a stirring melodramatic story. Although a
rector, and a good working pastor, he wrote for the
stage, and I remember a rather stirring drama of his
called " The King and His Commons," besides other
works. This theatrical experience helped him when
gruesome tales were wanted for the Christmas Number,
and sometimes when the Editor could not find what he
wanted White was at hand with the exact thing
desired. Boz was very partial to him, and it has been
stated that he took a house specially at Bonchurch
so as to be near him.
We find also a novehst who was then in very high
favour, but whose name would now suggest no idea
whatever to the existing generation. This was
Miss Mulock, whose "Head of the Family" and other
works were on every drawing-room table. There was
a taste then for a sort of placid treatment of domestic
life, and there were many women WTiters who rather
" twaddled along," as in the case of the worthy Yonge,
with her amazing work, "The Heir of Redclyflfe."
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Another contributor of this class whom he welcomed
with enthusiastic cordiality was the authoress of
"Holme Lee," Miss Harriet Parr, who in 1855 sent him
a serial tale with which he was delighted. Who recalls
the name now ? Yet it was in high vogue. He
read it " with the strongest emotion," and thought it
masterly. " It moved him more than he could express,
and had completely unsettled him for the day." It
is astonishing in our prosaic days to read of this
generous spontaneous enthusiasm on the part of an
editor. He was not, however, able to make use of it,
as its length and shape was unsuited, but he eagerly
invited her assistance.
300
CHAPTER XXII
LE FANU. WALTER THOENBUEY. H. F. CHORLEY.
COVENTRY PATMOEE. CHARLES LEVER. JA3IES PAYN.
One of the last story-tellers, engaged, I think,
on my suggestion b}'' the Editor, was the late J. S. Le
Fanu, a novelist who made an extraordinary impression
with his weird tale " Uncle Silas." As has been the fate
of so many others, he was destined to be the author
of but one single success. Dickens, however, died
before his story could appear. Though he wTote
abundantly he was a man of exquisite taste and genuine
humour, descended from the Sheridan family, and with
much of the great Brinsley's quaint fancies. We
were the warmest friends, and for years I used to
arrive every night about ten o'clock and stay till one
o'clock or so listening to his strange talk and stories.
But if he had Sheridan's humour he had also the
deep resentments of the race, that curious moody
suspicion after an injury that was more supposed than
real. I recall an instance of this, associated with Boz.
Liking him so much and being under obligations to
him, I hoped to bring him and my great friend together.
An opportunity came. When travelling round on his
Readings, Boz agreed to dine with us, a special favour
which he hardly ever accorded on account of his
fatigue, and a choice party was made up, including the
genial and talkative politician, Whiteside, as well as my
dear friend. The guests were assembling, and Le Fanu
came late. I was about to introduce him, when I
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
found he was gone. He had descried an old
irreconcilable enemj^ in the politician. It was certainly
awkward, and I ovight to have avoided arranging such
a meeting. Later on, however, I mentioned Le Fanu's
wishes to Dickens, who, it seems, cordially accepted
his aid, and having had a high opinion of his talent,
at once agreed to make use of his service. " Willing to
Die" was, I think, the rather odd name of his novel.*
It was at this dinner, by the way, that a political
and garrulous friend made his mal a propos speech :
" Now I ask 3'ou, I\Ir. Dickens, is there a single A^Titer
to-day who can be named with Walter Scott ? "
One of Dickens's most valuable hodmen, as they
may be termed, who had a knack of fashioning articles
out of any material whatever, was Walter Thornbury,
who month after month for 3'ears supplied manufactured
papers on any old material, which he stewed down and
flavoured to the taste, much as Sam Weller's sausage
maker flavoured his cats, according to the demand and
season. Old trials, old riots, runaway matches, duels,
were all treated in this skilful way, and read like modern
tales. The writer's imagination helped him, and he
contrived to write as though he had been present at the
incidents. These things were supplied for j^ears under
the title of " Old Stories Retold."
Thornbury travelled about for various journals,
but I doubt if either he or Boz could afford such
expensive commissions. The latter always declared that
he was one of his most valuable assistants, o^ving,
perhaps, to the writer's penchant for murders and violent
scenes. He wrote well on Art, and at least had much
artistic feeling.
• It was curious that in his own land the natives persistently sounded his
name I>of[anew. whereas in England he was quite correctly spoken of as Le Fanu.
He was of an old Hugenot family.
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It would be a harsh or rough thing to say that he
was a professional bookmaker, but no one knew
better the art of lighting on a subject that Avould bear
enriching by cuttings, extracts from museums, memoirs.
Gentleman'' s Magazine and the hke. He had, however,
a certain enthusiasm which covered up all this trade
view.
Poor Thornbury flourished much so long as the reign
of his Editor lasted. He might count steadily on his
eternal series of " Old Stories Retold," with the " Cato
Street Conspiracy " and the rest. But with the
departure of his friend he seemed to descend steadily.
He was a confirmed bachelor of long standing. But
he married rashh- it seemed to me, and I am afraid
died in distressful straights.
Dickens's prompt, straightforward manner of
business with his assistants is well shown in a letter to
Thornbury, who had suggested a sheaf of subjects for
the eternal " Old Stories Retold."
Dear Thornbury,
I think the " Bottle Conjurer " and the " Berners
Street Hoax " too well kno\\Ti. Ditto Daniel Lambert's
" Miss Boffin " and " Baron Lowski." The wonderful
magazines and the ' Books of Celebrated Characters '
have used them up. As to " The ilisers' Wild Boys,"
yes, " Ice Winters," yes, if compounded of several
experiences. "Balloons" I am doubtful about. " The
Nassau Voyage " was described in an (appropriately)
inflated little book done by Monck Mason, and much
quoted at the time. " A Hurricane and an Earthquake "
might go together. " A ]Memorable Inundation," a
good subject. And I very much like the idea of those
Algerian notes. Pray pursue it. I wTite from the
office, where I am stopped by a bad foot on m}^
way from Liverpool. Henry Thompson insists on my
303
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
foot being in absolute repose until he releases me.
May that be soon.
Though this is purely a business letter, it is lit up
by quaint turns and a little humour, and it is good-
natured, too, and encouraging.
I have already given Dickens's indignant letter to
myself on the scurrilous attacks made on him in the
Irish papers. But some further details of this grotesque
episode will be interesting. Once Walter Thornbur}' was
sent to Dublin in search of "copj-," travelled in Irish
cars, and made much fun or ridicule of everj'thing he
saw. This was quite a la mode in the All The Year Round
system, where comic satire " spiced " everything. Such
a furious storm burst forth ! The Irish papers became
inflamed to fury. Boz was howled at, abused in the
coarsest terms ; in fact, one would fancy that we were
reading the American journals on his own '' American
Notes."
Here was this Mr. Dickens into whose lap the Irish
people poured heaps of their gold and silver, and in this
way did he repay them — spalpeen that he was ! The noble-
hearted, guileless, generous I-erish people turned into
ridicule by the guest they 'd honoured ! The smaller
country papers were the most scurrilous. In vain the
writer, Thornbury, wTote in the most humble, apologetic
terras. No one cared what he said. Boz, who was
behind, and prompter of all, was the offender. I wrote
myself and pleaded hard. All was of no use. The
fact was they were delighted to have the opening and
" show up " a man of Boz's eminence, and a great
Saxon to boot. They had, perhaps, an instinct that
he had but little admiration or liking for them. He
was deeply wounded and disgusted by the grossness
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of the language used. This was quite a novelty, for
though people disapproved or disagreed, there was
always present a studious and reverential respect for
him. Here he was literally called names — " a vulgar
cockney," etc. He could never have forgiven such
treatment. As he put it in one of his forcible phrases
to me : " /i has amazed me for life ! "
The truth was, and I say it reluctantly, there
never was much sympathy or liking between the Irish
and the great A^Titer. He did not care for them. He
loved the Scotch. He was not much read in Ireland,
perhaps not wholly understood. I have been assured
by a wholesale bookseller, " We sell more Dickens
books in a single town in Scotland than in the whole
of Ireland."
Once when I was travelling with him on his Reading
Tour, and starting from the Dubhn Terminus for the
north, we noted a sort of dispute going on at the
luggage van. On the English and Scotch lines he was
always paid the compliment of never being charged for
the carrying of his screens and other apparatus. Here,
however, an uncouth stationmaster, as related elsewhere,
was clamouring that he knew nothing about Mr.
Dickens, who should pay like everyone else. In
Belfast, where was " the Bar " on its Northern circuit,
to which I belonged, I found a hot debate going on.
Some of the juniors had proposed that Dickens should
be invited to a complimentary dinner. But the older
members voted it down by a great majority ! It was
in vain to urge that he would not accept. " It was
against the Bar rule."
A short, quaint, spare little man with wiry white
hair that stood up straight and was cropped short,
with a low yet " squeaky " voice, such was Henry F.
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Chorley, the musician, another of Dickens's devoted
worshippers. He did not do much for the magazine,
for his papers, being generally concerned with the
abstruse things of music, could not be acceptable to
the " general reader." There was one odd paper on
this subject, full of his OAvn peculiar cranks, which he
deemed all important ; so that he pressed it again and
again on Boz, Avho had to resist. He was, however, so
earnest and persevering that he at last prevailed. I
forget its name now. He was a " true musician,"
a good, but severe critic, much dreaded, hospitable,
and living in Eaton Place. Years before I was
crossing to Ostend on a stormy night under the
old rude dispensation with its miserable cockle-shell
boats. There was the little Dover harbour to which
you actually walked down from the station to the
wretched " Ostend boat." The passage that night
took seven or eight hours, during which I had an
unhappy time. There were few passengers creeping
ashore at the old yellow Ostend, with its venerable
fortifications, where we found the old yellow 'bus — the
one town 'bus — waiting to carry us to the station. There
was only myself and a little wiry man with a squeaky
voice — an old, seasoned traveller, who was quite
unruffled, and who, as he told me, had been quite
comfortable, and had slept soundly. I envied him,
for I was shivering, wet and miserable. We trundled
through the old town across the drawbridges, rumbling
under the gatcAvay until we stopped before the Hotel
Fontaine, where he dismounted and bade me good-bye,
going up to his bed. How I envied him ! I had to go
forward by the early train, and was trundled and
" rumbled " aAvay to the station. Years later we met at
Dickens's, and on this occasion I ventured to question
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him. I found that he remembered the morning
perfectly, with his jolting jaunt in the old 'bus, and his
being set down at Fontaine's, and also, I think, the
fellow-passenger. We thenceforth became friends, and
he would ask me to his choice little dinners en partie
fine.
By a curious chance it seemed to be our Editor's
lot to be alwaj^s gathering about him men of singular
and adventiu-ous Uves. This lent colour and interest
to their \\Titing. A specimen of this double life was
furnished by Dudley Costello and his sister Louisa,
In earlj'' Ufe he served as a soldier for many years,
and while on foreign service we are told that he
published a little newspaper in manuscript, each copy
^ATitten like print. He next served under Cuvier, in
Paris, painting fish for the museum. Then he
illuminated miniatures, his attempts exciting great
admiration. Later he became newspaper correspondent,
and finally a profuse magazine WTiter and intimate
friend of Dickens, his companion in the well-known
theatricals, and a constant writer in Household Words
and its successor.
One of the most original and at the same time
interesting contributors was the brilliant, highly-strung,
exaggerated and slightl3"-eccentric Coventry Patmore.
I knew him and saw a good deal of him when he was
living at his old Manor House at Hastings. The
portrait by Sargent is a most faithful likeness, with its
odd collar and straggling locks. He is best kno\vn by
his tender poem, " The Angel in the House " ; nothing
can exceed the affectionate grief here displayed. The
cynic, however, would smile at this and forecast the
result ; he was to prove, as ilr. Weller said, " A
wictim of connubiality." He was difficult to get on
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
with, for though he made sacrifices in conscientiously
joining the Roman CathoUc faith and built a church,
he was not on terms with the clergy, because they
would not allow him to control the building.
Moy Thomas was one of the conductor's most iiseful
followers — safe, secure, always to be relied upon. He
could supply anything that he was asked for, and, like
Swift, could " Avrite " beautifully upon a broomstick.
But in dramatic criticism he found his melier. There he
shone. Having had a long experience of dramatic critics
and their ways and gifts, I may say that Moy Thomas
always seemed to me to be the most judicious and
thoughtful of the whole party. For many years the
Daily Neivs had the advantage of his criticisms, which
were ever temperate, informing and stored with sound
principles. He had an odd pejichant on the subject of
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, and also wrote agreeable
stories.
A word too must be said of another contributor,
a composed, amiable type of man — George Manville
Fenn — who would never " set the Thames " or any-
thing else on fire, but went on his placid way steadily
and usefully. He did occasional work for All The.
Year Roimd, but I think not verj^ much. I cannot
recall what was his special type of contribution, but
he had a certain reputation for interesting domestic
tales and " boys' books." He was also a useful
editor, and long directed CasselVs Magazine*
I have described the occasion when the jovial,
obstreperous Harry Lorrequer, i.e. Charles Lever, was
to spin one of his stories in the decorous, well-regulated
* With hia constant friondlincss he engaged mo to supply a serial, " The
Little Stranger." To show what was the commercial character of the serial
business in these times, I may say that this was the third that I was " running "
in a leaah at the same time,
308
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
pages of A.Y.R., as it was familiarly abridged. But
by this time the old Irish ebullience had completely
abated, he wished to be " taken seriously," and to
furnish the regular " novel of interest," trusting himself
to the staid, respectable Blackwoods, of whom I once
heard him say, "" They were the only publishers who
had treated him like a gentleman." An exaggeration,
I fancy.
I knew him very well, and found him a most
delightful companion, as everyone did, not at all of
the "rollicking" sort, but rather inclined to seriousness
or quiet comedy. It was an extraordinary delusion of
the public that he was a typical Irishman. He was an
Englishman with Irish sympathies and deep knowledge
of Irish character, which Thackeray also had in a large
degree.
The name of his story was " A Day's Tour : a Life's
Romance," which started in his most admirably
spirited style, a young fellow going out on a day's
expedition, his return in the evening being hindered
b}' a chapter of accidents, leading him into the most
Avonderful adventures. I recall Wills' s delight at the
opening pages, rubbing his hands with enjoyment. But
alas ! by some unlucky chance, the author speedily
greAV tired of the thing ; he lost his spirit, and it subsided
into an unmeaning and dull Germanesque story. So
that the poor, confiding Boz, who expected from every-
one the faith and hearty workmanship that he could
find in his own loyal heart, found himself once more, as
it were, left in the lurch. The only thing was to " cut
the loss," his usual practice, and wind the thing up with
all speed, while he had to prepare himself to " strike
in," and so restore the day. There was always an
alarming necessity for this step : with any failure,
309
CHAPTER XXIII
THE TROLLOPES. C. H. TOWNSHENd's BEQUEST. HORN.
CHARLES KENT. HENRY MORLEY.
One of the most striking illustrations of authorship
in one family is that of the Trollopes ; the mother, an
immensely popular writer of her day, with her two sons
and daughters-in-law. As a child I can recall the
amazing popularity of Frances Anne. In the forties
she was the one and only " fashionable " storj'^-teller
to be read, and certainly her " Widow Barnaby " and
other jovial tales gave great entertainment, and was the
pattern for a whole school of such things. To the
Italian Trollopes, as they may be called, Dickens was
most partial. But we miss Anthony Trollope among
his contributors. On the starting of the CornhiU
Thackeray secured him, and the brilliant and pleasantl}"--
written "Framley Parsonage " at once suited the taste
of the public, and brought him fame and profit, and
I dare say it caused Boz some annoyance that he had
allowed this excellent wTiter to escape him.
I well recall the earnest admiration with which the
Editor spoke of a short, pathetic tale which filled a
few numbers, and was called " Aunt Margaret's
Trouble." It seemed to me rather of the " goody-
goody " or household pattern, but I have no doubt lie
was right in his view. It was wTitten by, I believe,
Mrs. Trollope, nee Ternan, then living in Italy. I am
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not certain as to this, but I am as to the rapturous
way in which Boz praised it. The authoress was
presently given a commission for a long and serious
novel called, I think, " Mabel's Progress ; " but as
the elder Weller said, it was " Unekeval, Sammy,"
perhaps a certain " vaulting " ambition interposed.
When Dickens had departed Anthony Trollope was
\\Titing for Thackeray in the Cornhill Magazine, and
now seemed to have the field clear before him, A
\\Titer who was receiving three and four thousand
pounds for a novel may have been found too costly an
article for Boz ; but after his death Anthony
Trollope's reputation being, I suppose, somewhat
" cheapened," he contributed under the son's
management to All the Year Round, notably the
oddly-named " Is He Popenjoy ? " TroUope's brother,
Thomas Adolphus Trollope, who had strong Italian
tastes, had early made acquaintance with Dickens, and
though he lived most of his life in Italy, contributed
a good deal to the two journals, chiefly on Italian
topics and subjects. He wrote many novels, and wrote
profusely and rapidly, but had not the gay facility of
his brother. His wife was also a diligent contributor
to Dickens's journals, her papers also having an
Italian tone.
Other minor workers were the author of the "Night
Side of Nature," a once much-talked-of book ; Percival
Leigh, author of "Mr. Pepys His Diary; " Blanchard
Jerrold and Edmund Oilier, who like Forster was a
link with Elia ; James Hannay, George Meredith and
others. How familiar were all these names then !
Another " adventurer " contributor w^as Laing
Meason, who had been a " common soldier," and had
seen service in various parts of the world. He ^vrote
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MEM0BIE5 OF CHABLES DICKENS
accoxmts of his travek in India, and wrote exceeding!}
welL These papers were highly popular, and were
continued for a long time. Such an adventurous
performer would have a piquant attraction for the
Editor.
\^Tiat a character was the worthy Peter Cunmngham
— " Peter " with everybody, son of Alan of that ilk—
the well-schooled, deeply-read antiquarian, whose
famous "Handbook to London" came into life before
anyone had taken up the subject, for he was a
" dimgeon of letters." His knowledge of antiques,
memoirs, obscure Walpolean allusions and gossip, was
amazing, and he was all but alone In the knowledge.
Xo one but he could furnish a complete history of the
Court Beauties at Hampton Court. There was his line.
His papers for Household Words had to be " scissored "
a good deal to get rid of their dry antiquarianisms.
But he had a pleasant style of his own, and had trained
himself by a most agreeable column of odds and ends
finished weekly to the Illustrated London News, where
he was succeeded by another piquant contributor to
Household Words, Sala. Poor " Peter " was said to
have a weakness for his national drink, and with but
small power of resistance.
There was a cultured ex-clergyman who had fiu-nished
a contribution or so to the paper, and was one of Boz's
ardent admirers. This was Chauncy Hare To-mishend.
He carried this worship to his gi'ave, for in his will left
his friend a sum of £1,000, but charged him with the duty
of sorting out a huge chestful of religious papers, notes,
speculations, which 1-e seemed to tliink only needed
setting in due order by his legatee's care !
I see the faithful follower at a little dinner at
Forster's seated opposite his chief, and devotionally,
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a la Boswell, " drinking in " every word. When he
ventured to speak it was in a low, subdued voice. Boz
was kind and encouraging, and " played round him," as
Garrick used to do with his old friend Johnson, with
a gentle humour. He was, however, scarcely prepared
for the religious executorship, but having undertaken
it, carried it out in sound, thorough style. How he
must have enjoyed it all the time. He must have
particularly relished calling himself all through " The
Literary Executor'''' (a sly touch at the passage in
the will).
Dickens's exquisite sense of humour, his ever
twinkhng eyes, revealing his enjoyment, as the hidden
meaning da^vned upon him, must have been highly
tickled as he found what a comical testamentary duty
had been cast upon him by his friend. He really
attempted to give a conscientious solemn account of
what was desired of him, and with this aim he detailed
all his efforts to carry out the sacred trust. Gravely
as he does it and earnestly, it is impossible not to see
that he is highly amused by his function, but he does
his best to tell his tale and excite all respect for his
serious friend. His account of his trust is exquisitely
comic without the slightest intention in that way on
his part. Let us Usten to him.
" ilR. Chauncy Hare Townshend died in London on
the 25th of February, 1868. His will contained the
follo\^'ing passage : —
(Thus, Boz.)
" ' I appoint my friend Charles Dickens, of Gad's
Hill Place, in the County of Kent, Esquire, my literary
executor ; and beg of him to publish without alteration
as much of my notes and reflections as may make
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
accounts of his travels in India, and -nTote exceedingly
well. These papers were highly popular, and were
continued for a long time. Such an adventurous
performer would have a piquant attraction for the
Editor.
What a character was the worthy Peter Cunningham
— " Peter " with everybody, son of Alan of that ilk —
the well-schooled, deeply-read antiquarian, whose
famous "Handbook to London" came into hfe before
anyone had taken up the subject, for he was a
" dungeon of letters." His knowledge of antiques,
memoirs, obscure Walpolean allusions and gossip, was
amazing, and he was all but alone in the knowledge.
No one but he could furnish a complete history of the
Court Beauties at Hampton Court. There was his line.
His papers for Household Words had to be " scissored "
a good deal to get rid of their dry antiquarianisms.
But he had a pleasant style of his own, and had trained
himself by a most agreeable column of odds and ends
furnished weekly to the Illustrated London News, where
he was succeeded by another piquant contributor to
Household Words, Sala. Poor " Peter " was said to
have a weakness for his national drink, and with but
small power of resistance.
There was a cultured ex-clergyman who had fiu'nished
a contribution or so to the paper, and was one of Boz's
ardent admirers. This was Chauncy Hare Townshend.
He carried this worship to his grave, for in his will left
his friend a sum of £1,000, but charged him with the duty
of sorting out a huge chestful of religious papers, notes,
speculations, which 1-e seemed to think only needed
setting in due order by his legatee's care !
I see the faithful follower at a little dinner at
Forster's seated opposite his cliiet, and devotionally,
314
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
() la Boswcll, '' drinking in " every word. When he
ventxired to speak it was in a low, subdued voice. Boz
was kind and encouraging, and " played round him," as
Garrick used to do with his old friend Johnson, with
a gentle humour. He was, however, scarcely prepared
for the religious executorship, but having undertaken
it, carried it out in sound, thorough style. How he
must have enjoyed it all the time. He must have
particularly relished calling himself all through " The
Literary Executor''^ (a sly touch at the passage in
the will).
Dickens's exquisite sense of humour, his ever
twinkhng eyes, revealing his enjoyment, as the hidden
meaning dawned upon him, must have been highly
tickled as he found what a comical testamentary duty
had been cast upon him by his friend. He really
attempted to give a conscientious solemn account of
what was desired of him, and with this aim he detailed
all his efforts to carry out the sacred trust. Gravely
as he does it and earnestly, it is impossible not to see
that he is highly amused by his function, but he does
his best to tell his tale and excite all respect for his
serious friend. His account of his trust is exquisitely
comic without the slightest intention in that way on
his part. Let us listen to him.
" IMr. Chauncy Hare Townshend died in London on
the 25th of February, 186S. His will contained the
following passage : —
(Thus, Boz.)
" ' I appoint my friend Charles Dickens, of Gad's
Hill Place, in the County of Kent, Esquire, my literary
executor ; and beg of him to publish without alteration
as much of my notes and reflections as may make
315
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
known my opinions on religious matters, they being
such as I verily believe would be conducive to the
happiness of mankind.'
" In pursuance of the foregoing injunction, the
Literary Executor so appointed (not previously aware
that the publication of any Religious Opinions would be
enjoyned upon him), applied himself to the examination
of the numerous papers left by his deceased friend.
Some of these were in Lausanne, and some were in
London. Considerable delay occurred before they
could be got together, arising out of certain claims
preferred and formalities insisted on, by the authorities
of the Canton de Vaud. When at length the whole of
his late friend's papers passed into the Literary
Executor's hands, it was found that Religious Opinions
were scattered up and down through a variety of
memoranda and note-books, the gradual accumulation
of years and years. IMau}^ of the following pages were
carefully transcribed, numbered, connected, and
prepared for the press ; but many more were dispersed
fragments, originally written in pencil, afterwards inked
over, the intended sequence of which, in the \\Titer's
mind, it was extremely difficult to follow. These again
were intermixed with journals of travel, fragments of
poems, critical essays, voluminous correspondence, and
old school-exercises and college themes, having no kind
of connection with them.
" To publish such materials ' without alteration,' was
simply impossible. But finding everywhere internal
evidence that Mr. Townshend's Religions Opinions had
been constantly meditated and reconsidered v/ith great
pains and sincerit}'^ throughout his life, the Literary
Executor carefully compiled them (always in the ^Titer's
exact words), and endeavoured in piecing them together
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to avoid needless repetition. He does not doubt that Mr.
Townsliend lield the ckie to a precise plan, which could
have greatly simplified the presentation of these views ;
and he has devoted the first section of this volume to
Mr. Townshend's owai notes of his comprehensive
intentions. Proofs of tlie devout spirit in which they
were conceived, and of the sense of responsibility with
which he worked at them, abound through the whole
mass of papers. Mr. Townshend's varied attainments,
delicate tastes, and amiable and gentle nature, caused
him to be beloved through life by the variously dis-
tinguished men who were his compeers at Cambridge
long ago. To his Literary Executor, he was always
a warmly-attached and sympathetic friend."
I always fancy that I can recognise in " Cousin
Feenix " a sketch of the ex-clergyman. He was,
indeed, a living " Cousin Feenix." With such a
person before his eyes, it was difficult for Boz to ignore
so telling a figure. Chauncey Hare Townshend had all
the gentle amiability and softness of "Cousin Feenix,"
with a sort of old-fashioned simplicity and aristocratic
bearing.
It was remarkable that after Boz had come
upon the scene, and with such amazing success,
it became necessary for journalists and precarious
writers almost to fight for a place in his journals. As
we look back we can make out many a rough figure
who combined with his writing much that was
adventurous and shifty. Such was Richard Home, or
" Hengist," as he quaintly signed himself, who seemed to
have combined the learning or at least studies of
Dr. Maginn with a strangely wild and boisterous
career.
MEMOEIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
He was at Sandhurst, and studied for the East India
Service, but, we are told, " received no appointment."
Then he took service with the Mexicans, and had a
post in the battles during the Spanish War. Here he
" had also a narrow escape from a shark." Then came
yellow fever, a visit to West Indies, a ship^^Teck, the
fracture of two ribs, a mutiny of the crew on the voyage
home, succeeded by the ship taking fire, all of which was
exciting enough. He then turned to periodical A\Titing
— poetical tragedies — corresponding with Mrs. Brown-
ing, with all manner of experiments in various depart-
ments. " Orion," a grand epic, which he sold, or
rather offered, for a farthing ! It would be impossible
to supply a tithe even of the names of his varied works.
Boz evidently took an interest in him, and gave his
poems a place in the Household Words. He also
attempted some arrangement with him for papers on
Australia, when he visited that country with William
Howitt. It is gravely recorded that " he was a
marvellous whistler, played the guitar and sang."
Of this Hengist, or Home, Dickens had a high
opinion as a writer, though in other respects he seems
to have given him some trouble, as most of the erratic
geniuses who became connected with him invariably
seemed to do. When Home went to Australia he was
given a commission to send home local articles, such as
" A Digger's Diary," and illustrations of the mode of
life out there. There is a hint of failure in a letter :
" It is evident that Home (notwithstanding his outfit
of tent, cart and what not) has abandoned the digging
idea, and already begun to live upon the reserved fund
sent out to ensure the capability of his return. I am
afraid this looks unpromising." And again, " I am
concerned to see tliat he supposes the arrangement
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with Mrs. Home never to have been discontinued."
This lady had " shown secrecy and reserve," etc.
" The arrangement, I suppose, must be resumed."
Poor amiable, much-enduring Dickens !
Dutton Cook, an odd name, was another of the well-
trained " manufacturers " of wares on the journal, as
I may call them. He was deeply read in old dramatic
lore, stage memoirs, actors' lives. " Doran " gossip,
all in a dry-as-dust fashion, and these heterogeneous
materials he had the knack of fashioning into rather
interesting articles WTitten in a solemn, literal style.
Thus he would give us the " O.P. Riots," the Macready
" rows " in the States, the first appearances of Kean,
Garrick and others. The deft Wills was at hand to
" clap on " lively, suggestive titles.
This Dr. Doran was also a skilful hand at this
sort of thing, and I think introduced the system of
making old details modern and readable, " boiling
them," it might be termed.
I could expatiate long on another faithful follower
and worshipper, the exuberant, affectionate, romantic
poet-journalist, Charles Kent, whose guide seemed to
be impulse. No one knew or contrived to know so
man}^ litterateurs of all degrees — Bulwer Lj^tton, Dickens,
Leigh Hunt, Ainsworth, Charles Lamb. His life seemed
to me always a tide of misfortune, one succeeding the
other, and he had, as the Irishman said, to struggle
against a large family. He was a pleasing poet, a good
editor, and well read, but unluckily invested his all in
a decaying paper, the old and once famous Sun, of which
he made nothing, and which actually died in his hands
of inanity. It was, however, a great inducement to be
proprietor and editor of this once famous newspaper.
His chief consolation was to use it for the service
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MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
of his beloved Dickens, who never had a more faithful
follower. He had the strange and pathetic privilege
of being the last to whom Boz addressed himself on
the fatal day of his seizure.* Poor Kent !
This worthy poet -editor was something of a
•character. No one had such sore troubles ; but he
could dismiss all thought of such things at a moment's
notice, and become as cheerful as the most prosperous
of the company. I have witnessed these alternations
from a deep despair to the happiest humour, just,
indeed, as ]\Ir. Micawber had the art of doing. I
regarded him always as a link with the days of Leigh
Hunt and even Charles Lamb.
He had a really fine literary taste, though somewhat
florid and " romantic," and edited Charles Lamb's
works excellently. His literary acquaintances had been
Avonderful — Leigh Hunt, the Procters, with Landor,
were all well known to him. But, alas ! he was mostly
luilucky, and nothing seemed to go well with him. It
was he who so successfully organised the gigantic send-
off banquet to Boz on his departure for the States. On
the whole, I do not think he did very much for the two
journals, save furnishing an occasional copy of verses.
1 had many and many a talk with him at our club about
the literary folk he had known, and used to be amused
and even astounded at the curious details he would relate.
The first Lord Lytton was his warm friend and patron,
and with him he had some odd experiences. Strange
to say, he was so mercurial that his spirits seemed to rise
Avith his troubles.
There were some contributors with quaint, grotesque
* This, however, is not quite clear, though the letter is thus exhibited iimong
the curios of the British Museum ; for there wns another written to someone else
on that ultimate day, and both were likely to have been dispatched by the same
'poat.
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
names. One signed officially " Sofy Toddles " ; another
'" Miss Tomkins." " Costick " had a Dickens
flavour, so had " Capper Spillan," " Postano," " Van
Corrin," and best of all '' Broderiss." John Oxenford
was long dramatic critic to The Times, when he could
make and unmake reputations. In those daj's such
a critic had enormous power. He always attended in
a sort of state, being led to a private box, and was
followed by a sort of aide-de-camp — an Irish gentle-
man on the Press I think.
Of all the contributors I fancy Henry Morley was
the most useful and most frequent. He seems to
have had the privilege of " nosing " out writers with
something curious or interesting to tell. These were
shaped and trimmed and adapted by Morley himself,
often too Wills and Morley and even Boz joined
together in the shaping. Wills, Boz and Morley in
one paper ! Professor Morley, whom I knew, was as
thoroughly good-natured as he was clever. He seems
to have been a sort of " man-of-all-work " to the
Journal, doing " odd jobs," co-operating with any
^\Titer who wanted help — a most useful sort of person,
in short, '" to have in an office." His little volume
of dramatic criticism was a sort of amateur's diary of
a visit to the theatre, but so shrewd and conscientious
are the criticisms that they have become a valuable
record. Later he was made a Professor of English.
CHAPTER XXTV
BOZ'S METHODS OF " DECLINING WITH THANKS "
One of the most amazing things in this truly super-
editor was the all but Herculean pains and labour he
expended in informing contributors that— he did not
need their services. He would kindly reason, expostu-
late, warn, explaining wh}' he could not be complaisant,
and all this seriously. I have before me at this moment
a series of letters to a foolish lady, who persisted in
forcing her wares on him, in which he showed
himself patient and indulgent to the end. He even
consented " to see her at the office," and talk it over
— astonishing indeed !
In an autograph catalogue I came on a little note
from Boz, and it may be said that in these lists the
" knowing " collector will find a vast store of extracts
from Boz's letters, often of a very private and poignant
nature. It was to Parkinson — " Joe," as he was to
his friends, who wrote a good deal for All the Year
Rotind, though not for Household Words. It runs :
" I think all the subjects good. ' The Derby ' seems
to me the least promising, but I may not catch it from
your point of view. My boy is laid up at Wimbledon
(he is head boy there now, and going to Cambridge)
with a lamed knee," etc. All who knew " Joe "
Parkinson liked and even loved him — a tall, burly
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CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
fellow with a hearty manner. He was a business man,
like " Practical John " Hollingshead, and was very
useful to the Editor for serious and commercial topics.
He was with us until recently, throwing himself into
all the movements for doing honour to Boz's memory,
such as the " Boz Club " and " Dickens Fellowship."
He had one little defect for so good-humoured a fellow
—he seemed to lack the valuable sense of humour.
I remember a reading of the Pickwick Trial which was
positively lugubrious — given aboard a P. and 0.
steamer to amuse (!) the passengers.
A friend, Frank Stone, brought Boz a contribution
from a lady who seemed to invite a serious criticism,
which he gave at length ; in his sincerity he believed
it would be of real service. He analysed with some
severity. There was too much smartness, giving, he
thought, the idea of effort, causing weariness ; every-
thing was too much patronised and condescended to.
To his own men he would give a few short, sharp
words of criticism, indicating the fault and the remedy
Thus to Yates : " The opening is excellent, but it
passes too completely into the Irishman's narrative,
does not light it up, does not carry through, as I think
it should with a certain indefinable subtleness, the
thread with which you began your weaving."
Thornbury would send him a large list of " sundries "
for the melodramatic " Old Stories Retold,"
which were returned to him with marginal notes of
acceptance or rejection, and humorous comments,
such as " Fighting Fitzgerald, never mind him."
"Lord Mohun's Duel— YE-E-E-S. Brunswick
Theatre — more yes than no. Vauxhall and Ranelagh —
most decidedly. Don't forget Miss Burney.
Smugglers — no, overdone." Thornbury had been
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MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
indiscreet in making some rash statement as to the
Bedford family. " Certainly," said Boz, " I acquit
you of blame in the Bedford Case."
In a letter to Mrs. Gaskell, who was introducing a
candidate, he wrote, in 1853 : —
"I am sorry to say that I cannot have the pleasure
of accepting. They possess no kind of characteristic
to render them available. Between ourselves — and
not for the information of their authoress — they are of
that intensely dreary and commonplace description
to which not even the experience of this place reconciles
my wondering mind. Everybody could write such
things, I imagine, but how anybody can contentedly
sit down to do it is inscrutable. Don't you feel the
same astonishment ? People don't plunge into
churches and play the organs without knowing the
notes or having the ghost of an ear. Yet fifty people
a day will rush into manuscript for these leaves only,
who have no earthly qualification but the actual
physical art of writing. Wills is ill, and I am at this
moment sitting (up to the neck) in a quagmire of these
productions."
How pleasantly is here touched off the mania for
writing and the eternal cacoethes scribendi. He never
economised his lively humours, but scattered them
freely in his letters.
So far back as 1857, when struggling, he wrote to
an aspirant, W. J. Clement : —
" Your note received this morning amazes me.
Within two or three da3's after the receipt of the poor
boy's manuscript 1 returned it to you in a letter replj'ing
to yours on the subject. ... I believe I told you
in effect that there were many little points of merit in
324
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
the juvenile production, but that I saw no signs in it
of the author being able to make an advance on a very
general kind of ability. ... I have an impression
that I finished by saying that if the young man should
ever wish to offer anything to Household Words I would
read it myself."
And again, in answer to another of this form of
tax :—
" But I cannot undertake to read the MS. . . .
for two reasons. Firstly, because that is a request so
often preferred to me that compliance would leave me
no leisure for any other occupation in life. Secondly,
because I know perfectly well that any publisher
would form his own opinions for himself."
There was another paper, " A Doctor of Morals,"
on prison discipline, which he dealt with at length, and
he explained why — that his assistant, when he himself
was away and unable to control the paper, might
be familiar with his way of viewing things, and be
able to feel and judge after his chief's views. Another
paper was " very well done, but I cannot make up my
mind to lend ray blow to the great forge bellows of
puffing up work."
In July, 1855, Miss Jolly sent him a piece called
" The Wife's Story," which he told her showed such
great merit and unusual promise and knowledge of
the human heart that he felt a strong interest in her,
as he writes. His encouraging, sagacious methods in
dealing with candidates of merit are admirably shown
in this little transaction. He sent the story back to
her with suggestions for its improvement. " You
write to be read, of course," he said. " The close was
unnecessarily painful, will throw oflf numbers who would
325
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
otherwise read it, and tolio vnll he deterred by hearsay
from so doing.'''' How acute is this. It also wanted
condensation here and there. " If you will leave that
task to me I will perform the task as conscientiously
and carefully as if it were my own."
Two years later we find the authoress writing to him
to confess that she felt depressed, and had little
confidence in her powers of success, when with much
pains and good nature he reassured her. Her novel,
"Mr. Arle," he had read, and could praise ; a couple of
her stories, indeed, had not been very successful in
the journal, " The Brook," and another. He recalled
the incidents, and pointed out some defects. " But
there is nothing fatal in either of these." As she had a
long story ready he was willing to read and accept it,
if possible. " I can give you no better counsel than to
look into the life about you, and to strive for what is
noblest and true." The story was sent, but did not
answer. It was too large for the space. " The people
do not talk as such people would, and the little subtle
touches of description, which, by making the country
house and the general scene real, would give an air
of reality to the people, are altogether wanting."
Another invaluable precept : " Yet there are
persons who write on and on, pleased with their own
fluency, yet without giving a thought to such matters
as these. This would, in a manner, oblige the reader
to believe in the heroine, whereas for ever exploding like
a great firework, without any background, she glares
and wheels and hisses and goes out, and has lighted
nothing." She was too convulsive, he feared, from
beginning to end. " Pray consider from this point of
view her brow, and her eyes, and her drawing herself
up to her full height, and her being a perfumed presence,
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
and her floating into rooms, also her asking people
' how they dare ? ' and the like, on small provocation.
When she hears her music being played I think she is
particularly objectionable." Dickens could not resist
this lively badinage ; but I fancy the authoress read
with but a wounded spirit and aching heart, wondering,
it may be, how " he dared." He then gave her another
precious counsel : " When one is impelled to write
this or that, one has still to consider how much of this
will tell for what I mean ? How much of it is my own
wild emotion and superfluous energy, and how much
remains that is truly belonging to this ideal character ?
And indeed, there might be added the question : Will
what we think will tell tell on the public at all ; or
what we care for does the public care for ? "
Boz's thorough spirit of system is shown in numbers
of these scraps directed to his intelligent henchmen,
who perfectly understood his ways. Fancy his having
to \%Tite not only his own letters but many for other
folk :—
" Private. — Sir — Mr. Charles Dickens's receipt of
your letter has been delayed — he requests me to inform
you — by accidental circumstances. This is one of
hundreds constantly addressed to Mr. Dickens, the
briefest replies to which under his own hand would
absorb his whole time. You may judge how little
poAver he has of helping such correspondents. But he
charges me to assure you that if you will address to
him here, to my care, any of those short pieces to
which you refer, he will read them himself." Written
b}' Boz himself.
" I wish you would return the enclosed letter by
post to Miss E. S. Gary . . . with this note from
yourself. ' Madam. In Mi. Dickens's absence on his
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
autumnal vacation I have opened your letter — con-
fidentially, in observance of his general instructions,
I beg to return it enclosed, and to add, both that I have
no authority to complj^ with your request, and the
compliance would be opposed to a principle which it
has been found necessary to establish in this office.' "
" Will you return the printed scrap in the enclosed
letter, with the following note from 3'ourself. ' Madam.
I have it in charge from 3Ir. Charles Dickens to express
his regret that he cannot send a favourable reply to
your letter. It is now his invariable rule in all cases
in which a scrap of paper is enclosed to him, accom-
panied by a request for its return, to make this answer
final' "
" Please wTite and send by post, the letter of which
I send you draft on the other side . . . ' Private.
Madam. I have it in charge from Mr. Charles Dickens
to express his regret that your letter is one of hundreds
which it is constantly quite impossible for him to
peruse.' "
To a lady who constantly offered him contributions,
" the result of her leisure moments," he \\Tote some-
what sarcastically, " If you offer me anything you may
be sure that it vnW be honestlj' read. But 1 am bound
to add that I do not consider fiction to be a thing to be
achieved in ' leisure moments.' " This was an effective
douche. But such plain speaking was necessary.
Only two months before his death, he wTote in the
same candid spirit to another postulant who had been
presented by Lord Lytton, and it will be seen with
what pitiless frankness he gave his plain, unvarnished
opinion. This was, perhaps, the most merciful and
salutary course : —
" I write to you most unwillingly, for I know that
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
the contents of my letter cannot be acceptable to you.
Besides that your ' River Tale ' is a weak repetition
of the form of your printed story, I find absolutely
nothing in it but the manner of " The story without an
end." The German manner will not carry the feeble
matter. If you will consider the River Story apart from
that manner, I think you will find it extremely common-
place, with nothing in the way of character or incident
to support it. Your Ice King and the Ermine Robe
and the like reappear : there is a vast deal too much
of proclamation of poetry, without the appearance of
the reality after the trumpets have been blown. All
the stock-in-trade of the miserable little books of verses
that continually accumulate on my table reappears in no
new form. I call them miserable, because they make me
so, in the evidences they present of a mistaken vocation
audits attendant inevitable bitterness of disappointment.
"The true romance of poetry of human life
or external nature is not to be found, so as to
awaken a response in any reasonable breast, by crying,
' Lo here ! Lo there ! See where it comes ! Look
where it goes ! This is it ! That is it ! The other is
it ! ' but in unaffectedly presenting it with the art of
scanning to leave it to present itself. The River, on
the contrary, is an extremely conscious river, with
a great deal to say about what it has to tell, and with
very httle to tell after all is said. If I consulted my
own ease and my own wish to be agreeable to you by
disguising what I sincerely believe to be the self-evident
truth, I should be equally false to you and to Lord
Lytton's presentation of you. You will get nowhere
by the road you are pursuing. What qualifications you
may have for attaining some amount of literary success
by any other track I cannot pretend to know, having
only the pleasure of knowing that you are modest and
earnest in your aspirations. But you are now in a
worn-out way that was never a very firm one, and has
been trodden into a mere Slough of Despond. Will you
claim your manuscript of me by any conveyance that
you may prefer."
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MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
A very significant letter was addressed by liim to
a lady who " wanted to become an authoress," a
ludicrous idea, and not uncommon.* He -wTote to her
in rather blunt style and wording, and writers should
ponder his words well : " You make an absurd though
common mistake in supposing that any human creature
can help you to be an authoress, if you cannot become
one in virtue of your own powers. I know nothing
about ' impenetrable barriers,' ' outsiders,' and
' charmed circles.' I know that anyone who can write
what is suitable to the requirements of my own journal,
for instance, is a person I am heartily glad to discover,
and do not very often find. I cannot undertake to
advise you in the abstract, as I number my unknown
correspondents by the hundred."
The ardent way in which the Editor identified
himself with the feelings with which capable
contributors wrote was very remarkable. Of one such
he would say : " It is more painfully pathetic than
anything I have read for I don't know how long."
There was a compliment ! The story was " Gilbert
Massinger," by " Holme Lee," alias Harriet Parr.
But it was found much too long, and he had
reluctantly to put it aside.
And now, the reader having accompanied me
round this large panorama of literary scenes and
* A well-known actress once related to me an instance of this kind in her own
profession. A young lady of good position consulted her about going on the stage,
but " the difficulty was " that her father would not hear of it. She remained firm
in her purpose for mouths and years ; the father, beset by entreaties from her and
friends, at last gave way, and formally gave his consent. The girl rushed to her
friend in triumph. It was all settled, as she fancied. The thing was done, and
Bho had triumphed. She was much aggrieved when the friend did not do the rest —
that is, supply her with a suitable opening " at the Lyceum," or some important
theatre, rather than with dramatic talent in which she was wholly deticient. She
had been treated unfairly, she protected ; slie h,id done her part, it was for her friend
to do the re3t.
330
15UST l)F t'llAKLKS DICKKNS BY PERCY FITZCKRAl
(In Uio I'ump lioom, liatli.)
CONTRIBUTORS TO THE TWO JOURNALS
figures, I would ask, does itjnot display a vast and
varied exhibition of literary talent, most creditable
to the conductor ? All who contributed to it Charles
Dickens had enrolled under his standard, and more or
less fashioned to his purposes. What contrasted
characters ! What abundant talent ! What magazine
of our day could offer such a show. And I think it
not uninteresting that I, who have been telling of them
and their adventures, should have luiown them all, or
nearly all.
A most original and interesting company they were,
all eager to serve and give their best service to the
great captain, with light article or criticism or story ;
yet out of the long list only a very few furnished the
novel of " long breath " (a longue haleine), and then
only a single story, or at most, I think, four, as in the
case of Wilkie Collins. But as I have already mentioned,
I was privileged to supply no less than five or six long
novels to the journal. I ought, indeed, to be grateful
to my old friend, patron, and master.
331
V
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
Charles Dickens s Publishers
CHAPTER XXV
CHARLES Dickens's publishers
Dickens was indeed a " many-sided " man, and in
any enterprise was certain to reveal true business-like
energies and methods. Thus, when the occasion came
he stood forward as a well-equipped publisher, Avell
skilled in all the niceties and machinery of the craft ;
and no wonder, for he had been well schooled by his
dealings with inferior as well as leading publishers,
and had learned many a lesson. He had to begin,
as of course, with the lower and more shifty class.
I think it will be interesting in this place, on the
conclusion of our review of his o\vn great publishing
venture, to look back to the early days of his
apprenticeship, when by hard and perhaps bitter
experience he came to learn all the devices of " the
trade." No one has hitherto attempted to furnish
an account of Dickens's early efforts in this direc-
tion, which show what an amount of anxieties and
troubles beset him — a mere youth at the time — at
this early stage, and with what cleverness and
resolution he met them. He had not to struggle hard
to gain the ear of the public, but had to contend with
those who ought to have assisted him — hostile and
grasping publishers — and yet he contrived, though
somewhat entangled by their arts, to extricate himself
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
from their toils. He was, in truth, a "wonderful young
fellow.
All know the almost pathetic account given by Boz
of his emotions on seeing his first composition in print —
how, on buying a copy of the magazine, he was too
agitated to look at it, and had to turn aside and walk
up and down to compose himself, his eyes being blinded
with tears. To the careless and superficial this might
seem strained and melodramatic, but it must be
considered he was then a youth, not twenty-one — the
incident occurred in 1833 — and that he was struggling
to exist, with his family almost wholly dependent
on him. The Magazine in question was The Old
Monthly, and it was published in Johnson's Court,
one of the old byways in Fleet Street, by one
A. Robertson. Boz told long afterwards, when re-
calling the proposal made to him to write " Pickwick,"
that he recognised in the person who opened the
business to him, whose name was Hall, the verj' man
who sold him the copy of the magazine in Johnson's
Court. Though then evidently a shopman, we find
Hall two years later a partner in Chapman and Hall's.
Boz is positive and particular in the matter, so we need
not doubt his accuracy. Yet it seems an odd and
sudden transformation. But there are some trifling
proofs that seem to support it ; for only a few months
later, early in 1834, we find that the name Robertson
has disappeared and the magazine is transferred to
"Cochrane and Macrone, 11, Waterloo Place," with
Boz as contributor, so it may have been that
Robertson's firm had been wound up. A few months
later Macrone's name vanished, and the firm stood
" James Cochrane and Co." Macrone had gone to set
up for himself, and Boz had formed a connection with
336
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
him. Though Boz recognised Hall when he came with
the "Pickwick" proposals, it is clear that he had not
met him at Chapman's, where Boz already had deaUngs.
The matter is certainiy a little " Avrapt in mystery."
But the fact of interest is that Boz's first publisher
was A. Robertson, of Johnson's Court, Fleet Street.
This Monthly magazine was a highly respectable
thing, and not badly edited. It was also " the British
Register of Literature, Sciences, and the Belles-Lettres,"
though the two last might be included in the first. It
was an old-established magazine, for Dickens's contribu-
tion appeared in Vol. XVI, which was in "a new
series." It was called " A Dinner at Poplar Walk,"
a little later changed to " IVIr. Minns and his Cousin,"
for some reason not very apparent. It is more a
rattling farce than a story. Indeed, most of Boz's
short tales at this period were really disguised farces.*
To turn for a moment to the Sketches. Macrone, then
a young man like himself, gave Boz £150, with another
£100 for the second series. This was really not so bad
for a new and httle-knoAvn journahst. The Sketches
did well. A year later, when the first numbers of
"Pickwick " were having a succes fou, Macrone wished to
benefit by this popularity, and announced a new edition
in monthly parts exactly like "Pickwick." Boz was
dreadfully put out at this, as it gave the notion of his
trj-ing to foist on the public an old work, and he
dispatched the faithful Forster to try to dissuade
him. Macrone was immovable, and stood upon his
* His contributions are : (1) " A Dinner at Poplar Walk " ; (2) " Mrs. Joseph
Porter, ' Over the Way ' " ; (3) " Horatio Sparkias " ; (4) " The Bloomsbury
Christening," often selected for readings ; (5 and 6) " The Boarding House," which
filled two parts ; (7) " The Steam Eicursion " ; (8 and 9) " Passage in the Life
of Mr. Watkina Tottle," also in two parts. This comprised all his work for The
Monthly, and prepared him for his Sketches. These stories are, and will always be
read on account of their "' local colour," for they present pictures of middle-class
life and society at the period. For the same reason, Albert Smith's " Mr. Ledbury "
is always welcome as a photograph of suburban maimers and customs.
337
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
rights. This matter, however, may stand over till we
come to deal with Chapman and Hall. Sufficient to
say that they freed him from Macrone, paying to him
a sum amounting to £2,250. Boz had, of course, no
money, so that he had to rely on his new friends.
And we may wonder how this young fellow steered
his course so well among all these rocks and pitfalls.
Truly he was an extraordinary young man, unique and
original in all his ways. As I have shown elsewhere,
there were always the two Dickenses, the man of
business and the \vriter. What young fellow do we
know of, who, starting to write, eager to get an
opening, ever found himself in the hands of no less
than three publishers ? And he but twenty-four.
The firm of Cochrane that took over The Monthly
was originally, as mentioned above, " Cochrane
and Macrone " of Waterloo Place. It was curious,
that as Robertson had brought Boz into connection
with Chapman's firm, so Cochrane, his second
publisher, was to bring him into connection with
his next publisher. Dickens was then a gay, briglit
3'oung fellow, who really seems to have attracted
all he met. He was pushful too, and knew how to
avail himself of openings and opportunities. He knew
well the Shakespearean maxim : " Let 's take the
instant by the forward top." And so when he found
Macrone at Cochrane's he naturally made him his
friend, and when Macrone set up for himself, how
natural that the latter should invite him to wi-ite for
him ! They were at one time living under the same
roof at Furnival's. These were not exactly " first-
class " publishers, but they were welcome to him at
the time. But he was certainly unlucky in this
publisher. It was no doubt with a certain exultation
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
that he contracted with him to take the " Sketches by
Boz," and issue them in a volume with illustrations.
Here was his first book. But he did not di'eam what a
struggle there was before him, when it became necessary
to rescue it and put it into other hands. ]\Iacrone was
probably of Italian origin, and his name shortened from
jNIacirone. But this is mere speculation.
Macrone sold several editions of the Sketches on
their first coming out. The outlay must have been
considerable, owing to the plates, which are even now
redierches for their artistic merit. They were the work
of the admirable George Cruikshank, then the one and
onl}' illustrator. And what an amazing power he had !
To look merely at his pictures of " Oliver Twist " we see
the story mo\'ing before us, the figures have such life and
roundness. They recall the same effects exhibited by
Meissonier. One might wonder how it was that when
Chapman and Hall were casting about for a successor
to the luckless Seymour they had not secured
Cruikshank. I cannot but think that the very stor}' of
" Pickwick" would have developed extraordinary powers
of humour in the artist, and made it less remote from
actual life than it was in the hands of Phiz. Cruikshank
probably was not free, and had been already secured by
the enterprising Bentley for his intended magazine. We
know that about the middle of the year 183G, when the
title of the venture was being discussed and changed, he
had been introduced to Boz, and had planned a new story
from his pen to be illustrated by George. It would not
do to have both ventures illustrated by the same artist.*
* Mr. Robson has, or had, what perhaps may be considered the most wonderful
Picktvick in existence. It has all the " points " complete, " addresses,"
adTcrtiscmcnts, and with the plates in their different " states." But the main
attraction is a single leaf of the original MS. of the story, in the author's clear,
decided hand«-riting. Some thirty or so other leaves are in the United States,
the rest are presumed to be lost or destroyed. This interesting and truly precious
leaf alone was valued at £250. but is now incorporated with this unique copy of
Pickwick, and catalogued at £450.
339
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Mr. Robson, the intelligent art bookseller of
Coventry Street, was lately offering a very remarkable
collection of papers connected with the Sketches :
they are, in fact, the transaction itself in its fullest
extent. It was priced at 175 guineas. " The whole
carefully inlaid or inserted in a folio volume, with
description attached to each article, and bound in
crushed levant morocco super-extra lettered on front
cover, watered silk linings, gilt edges, b}' Broca."
This account makes the bibliophile's mouth water.
But the young fellow, could he have dreamed at the
moment — nigh seventy years ago — that this trivial
bargain of his would be so appreciated !
The collection comprises : An autograph letter of one
page 4to, signed in full '" Charles Dickens " and dated
1836 : " My dear Macrone, I called here to say that I was
with Cruikshank last night when we finally determined
on eight illustrations for the first volume : " The
receipt for £100 from Charles Dickens to John Macrone
for the sale of the entire copyright of both series of
"Sketches by Boz," dated 5th January, 1837, signed in
full and wholly in the handwriting of Charles Dickens :
The Memorandum of Agreement between Chapman and
Hall and John Macrone for the re-purchase of both
series of "Sketches by Boz," dated 17th June, 1837,
in Macrone's autograph, setting forth the terms aiad
manner of payment, on 2^ pages 4to : John Macrone's
receipt for £2,250, dated 24th June, 1837, for the
purchase referred to in the above memorandum, with
full assignment to Messrs. Chapman and Hall : The
agreement between Charles Dickens and Messrs.
Chapman and Hall, respecting the copyright of the
first and second series of "Sketches by Boz," dated
31st March, 1840, engrossed on two sheets of parch-
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
ment, with fine signatures and seals of C. Dickens,
E. Chapman and W. Hall.
From these papers it is clear to me that the vilified
Macrone was much more liberal to his writer than
Forster makes out. Thus on 5th January, 1837, when
just one half of "Pickwick" had appeared, we find Boz
signing over to the publisher his whole copyright in
both series for £100. This must have been in addition
to the original price, as the book had long since been
published. It looks as though Macrone had purchased
with a view to his scheme for issuing the work with
illustrations and in parts.
Dickens had a sort of indirect connexion with
Colburn the publisher, who issued all the fashionable
novels of the day. Colburn's wife was one of my
best friends. It is not generally known that she
married en secondc noces the sturdy John Forster, Boz's
friend and adviser ; and she brought him as her
dowTy much money, a number of valuable copyrights*
and some valuable manuscripts, notably the whole
correspondence of David Garrick.
Richard Bentley, of New Burlington Street,
successor to Henry Colburn, was a remarkable man
in his profession, notable always for the interesting
and dramatic character of the books he issued, and for
the distinguished writers that he enrolled. He had a
strong character, was bold and even daring in his
plans, and generally successful.
I see Richard Bentley now, as I saw him for the
first time in his office at New Burlington Street. A
short, pink-faced man, with great white whiskers and
bristly, wirj'^ hair ; smart of speech, fluent and pleasant
also, with a cordiality and bonhomie that some may have
considered was affected. I at least have reason to
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
speak of him with sincere gratitude, for his treatment
of me was singular!}^ generous and encouraging. I
had ATOtten a two-volume story called " Mildrington,
the Barrister," a first novel which had not been very
successful. He read it, and was so satisfied with it
that he not only took " the stock " off the publisher's
hands and re-issued it himself, but made this very
" sporting " proposal : "I tell you what," he said,
" you go and write me a novel, and I will give you a
hundred and fifty pounds for it." And so he did.
" Bella Donna," I was gratified to find for his sake, was
a success, passed rapidly into a second edition, and
made a sort of name for the author, who called himself
" Gilbert Dyce." That story again was read by Boz
himself, and prompted him to engage me to A\Tite
him a three-volume novel. Here was good fortune.
That office or literary studio became afterwards a
pleasant resort, and I often found my way thither
during the three generations of the house of Bentley.
Before the success of " Pickwick " was assured,
Bentley had " marked downi" Boz, who was introduced to
him by George Hogarth, Boz's father-in-law. So soon as
he had secured his Boz, he conceived the idea of utilising
him in many ways, notably by issuing a magazine of a
very brilliant and unusual order, which should be
illustrated by the best artist of the da3% George
Cruikshank, and directed by the young Dickens. He
gave him £20 a month, increased later to £30. The
magazine was quite a new departure, and was laid out
on handsome lines. In those days it was no
manufacture of sentences, at so much per " thousand
words." Not then had been heard the odious
stipulation, " You may write me an article of not more
than two thousand words." I have before me now
342
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
some five liandsome and substantial volumes which
contain all the numbers that were issued under Boz's
directions, some twenty or so in all. Bound up with
the text are all the A\Tappers, advertisements, addresses,
which seem to impart a sort of living contemporary
interest to the pages. There is even a local colour.
It seems to bring before us the strenuous youth, only
twenty-four, who was directing not only this venture
but many other enterprises, and we see in all his various
contributions evidence of his buoyant, intrepid nature
and high spirits. The fu-st number appeared on
January 2nd, 1837, when the Editor was nearly half-
way through his immortal " Pickwick." There had been
some uncertainty as to the title. One had been settled
on, and actually advertised. The Wifs MisceUany.
I have seen the notice ; but this may have been
thought too pretentious, and it was determined to have
one of a more neutral kind, namely Bentley's, which
suggested a truly witty retort by Barham. The
publisher had told him of the change : " Instead of
The Wit's Miscellany, I have determined to call it
Bentley's." " Would not that be going to the other
extreme ? " was Barham's sly remark.
In his Prologue Boz seems to have felt the awkward-
ness of the change of title and the smart of the jest, for
he quotes the old joke about Swift and the youth who
" set up for a mt " : " Then, sir, I advise you to sit
down again." He urged that it could not apply to him.
" The fact is absolutely undeniable that we originally
advertised ourselves — or rather our work — as The
Wii s Miscellany, thereby indicating beyond all doubt
that we were Wits."
Boz, at that time in the best of health and spirits,
shrank from no labour or burden. He had nearly
343
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
a dozen numbers of " Pickwick " to ^\Tite, the magazine
to edit, papers to contribute, and one of his great stories,
•'Oliver Twist," to furnish for the opening number. Inhis
first number the young Editor gathered quite a brilHant
companj^ round him. " Father Prout," Dr. Maginn,
Theodore Hook, Samuel Lover, Gleig, Feniraore
Cooper, Haynes Bailej^ the authors of "Hadji Baba"
and of "Headlong Hall." There were some oddities —
as Father Prout appeared no less than three times in
different parts of the magazine. The Editor supplied
" The Public Life of Mr. Tulrumble," an account of a
provincial mayor— evidently intended for one of the
"Sketches by Boz." Voluntary contributions were
considered, for a notice from the Editor tells us that
" numerous contributions have been received. Some
are under consideration : and to the authors of the
remainder, communications have been addressed by
the Editor, who begs to state that in future he cannot
return rejected articles."
On June 1st the magazine contained the following
highly personal notice : " Since the appearance of the
last number of this Avork the Editor has to mourn the
sudden death of a very dear young relative to whom
he was most affectionately attached, and whose society
had been for a long time the chief solace of his labours.
He has been compelled to seek a short interval of rest
and quiet. The next number \\\\\ be conducted by him
as usual, and the adventures of Oliver Twist will then
be continued." And in the literary intelligence we
read : " Oliver Tivist. We beg to announce that the
' Adventures of the Parish Boy,' under the above
title, will be continued in our next Miscellany. The
melancholy domestic affliction which Mr. Dickens has
just sustained prevented the possibility of any mental
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
exertion for the present number." The publication of
" Pickwick " had been suspended for two months owing
to the same affliction, and thus two pubUshing offices
thrown into confusion. What a genuinely feeling heart
was his ! This incident is really unprecedented.
All through his life Boz was very partial to the
mode of address illustrated above, and loved to write
a letter, as it were, to the public, and take them
in his confidence. . " Addresses," " Proclamations,"
" Personals," " Protests," were very constantly issued.
I believe this practice was owing to his highly-strung,
sensitive nature, which could not rest for a day or a
week without expending itself in this fashion.
The second number was notable for a very pleasant
jeu d'esprit in Boz's happiest style. It was a leaflet
bound up with the number — a lively* parody of the
speech from the throne at the opening of Parliament.
At the head was a charmingl}' engraved picture by
Phiz, depicting the publisher bending under the load
of bales of his magazine — an excellent likeness, too,
as I can testify. Beside him was the brilliant young
Editor, leading him on by his coat collar ; while an
animated crowd surrounds them, busy scrambling for
the scattered numbers. The figure of the Editor also is
an excellent likeness, well-made, graceful and interesting.
Here, again, we have yet another instance of the Editor's
thought for his friends, for Phiz was still working with
him on "Pickwick" ; while Cruikshank, as the publisher's
bondman, might have expected the job. The piece is
in parts witty enough, particularly the ingenious note
at the close : " His mightiness incorporated with his
speech on general topics some especial references to
one ' OUver Twist.' Not distinctly understanding the
allusion we have abstained from giving it."
345
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
In the third number we find a contributor, George
Hogarth, introduced, who was Boz's father-in-law.
His subject was a passage in the hfe of Beaumarchais.
In Scott's entanglement with the Ballantynes and his
publishers he obtained great assistance from a shrewd
young Writer to the Signet, in fact from this very
George Hogarth. Scott mentions him with great
praise for his assistance.
Boz's contributions to the first volume were
numerous : " The Public Life of Mr. Tulrumble,"
" Theatrical Advertisement Extraordinary," '" The
Pantomime of Life," " Some Particulars Concerning a
Lion," and five portions of "Oliver Twiat."
" Oliver Twist " was, however, destined to be a
second time interrupted, but for less tragical reasons,
viz. in September, 1837. In the number of October 1st,
1837, there was no " Oliver Twist," and a rather odd
apology accounted for its absence : " Notice. Oliver
Twist will be continued by Mr. Dickens in the next
number of the Miscellany, and after that time from
month to month as usual. The great length of the
proceedings of the Mudfog Association prevents the
insertion of the usual continuation this month." This
seems extraordinary. To suspend an exciting story,
Avhich everyone was reading, to introduce an ephemeral
paper, was surely " bad business " and risk3^ They
might think that it was to be broken off altogether.
These interruptions might have done serious damage.
We find in Part II an illustration to Ingoldsby's
tale of "The Spectre of Tappington," representing the
skeleton's appearance, and on a boot-jack the name
of the artist, " W. Buss." This was our old friend who
is so interesting to Pickwickians as the author of the
two discarded " Buss plates." As is known, he was
346
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
dismissed rather summarily, as a failure. But I fanc}'-
we can see here a trait of Boz's good nature, who wished
to make a little amende. But the picture is a Avretched
one, and no more of his work appears. Poor Buss ! One
feels a s_vmpathy for him.
In the third number appeared an impromptu that
is often quoted, and has merit : —
" Who the Dickens Boz could be
Puzzled many a learned elf,
Till time unveiled the mystery
And Boz appeared as Dickens's self."
C. J. Davies.
In the March number, 1838, appeared a humorous
proclamation, as from a royal personage, announcing
the present appearance of "Nickleby," to be published
not hy Bentley, but by Chapman and Hall, who had
just issued the completed "Pickwick" in volume form.
It was to appear on March 30th ; so this wonderful young
man must have had on his hands and in his brain
at the same time all these works, namely the conclu-
sion of " Pickwick " and "Oliver Twist," " Grimaldi,"
"Nickleby," the revised " vSketclies by Boz," and the
magazine editing, with occasional papers, all of which
seemed to appeal to the public too much and too often.
After finding him thus burdened and his future so
heavily mortgaged, we are almost startled to find among
the advertisements of the magazine an announcement
of 3^et further work ! We read as actually being " in the
press " : " New work by Boz in three volumes, post
octavo : A new work of fiction by Charles Dickens, Esq.
(Boz), author of the Pickivick Papers, etc." Now not
a line of this book could have been Avritten, and yet it
was announced as complete and as being printed. In
the second number of the Miscellany, however, is the
MEMORIES OF CHAELES DICKENS
announcement : " New work by Boz. In three volumes
post octavo, a neio work of fiction." And by this time
"Oliver Twist" had commenced. But in the fourth
number we reach a positive statement in this important
notice : " New work by Boz in three volumes post
octavo. Barnaby Budge, A ; story of the riots of
1780, by Charles Dickens, Esq., Boz."
Three stories going on together ! And it is clear
that he really intended completing this new venture off-
hand. But it is equally clear that so shrewd a publisher
as Bentley would not dream of having four works by
Boz before the public at the same moment. As the
sequel proved, this^ announcement was intended to
secure the energetic author to himself beyond the
possibility of retreat. It was also a " warning off " to
other publishers, thus showing how deeply Boz was en-
gaged to him. Could it be that Boz had already WTitten
a large portion of " Barnaby Rudge," it thus being,
as it were, " in the press," feeling that he could easily
complete it, and had laid it aside ? I doubt if he would
have consented to publishing such a fiction as that.it
was " in the press " when it was not. He was too
honest for that. But on the end cover of the number
for November, 1838, Bentley was able to display a large
notice, filling the whole page, and printed in thick
black letters : —
THE READERS OF
BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY
ARE INFORMED THAT IMMEDIATELY
ON THE COMPLETION OF
"OLIVER TWIST,"
Mr. Charles Dickens (Boz),
WILL commence a NEW STORY, TO BE ENTITLED
"BARNABY RUDGE,"
IN THIS PUBLICATION.
348
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
The story of Chapman and Hall's grand couj) — their
engagement of Dickens to supply a descriptive
commentary for a number of humorous or caricature
sketches by Seymour — has been told and retold.
All know how this ventm-e turned into the immortal
" Pickwick." It was flattering for the young man
that he had not to go round knocking at publishers'
doors, and begging for a hearing, as was to be
Thackeray's fate with "Vanity Fair." Everyone came
to him, not he to them. This was a note of character.
We may always wonder how Chapman and Hall
allowed their brilliant WTiter to slip from their hands,
even temporarily, into those of Bentley. The fact was
that they were not then whollj^ confident in the success
of "Pickwick," while Bentley, who had great sagacity
in such matters, was already able to forecast his fame,
and secured him without opposition from them. But
so soon as Boz had begun to quarrel with Bentley,
they had become conscious of their mistake, and were
eager to draw him back, and they certainly intervened
in a very generous and sporting way. For we find
them coming forward with over £2,000 to rescue him
from this crushing, overwhelming burden of the un-
written " Barnaby Rudge. ' ' By this advance, following
on the assistance they had given him in the matter of
the Sketches, Boz became their debtor and mortgaged
to them, as it were.
Not until March 31st, 1840, was a formal agreement
dra^^^l up between Dickens and his new pubUshers, by
which, as Mr. Kob^on tells us, the respective shares in
the copjTight of the Sketches already referred to was
settled. This is engrossed on two sheets of parchment,
" with fine signatures and seals of Edward Chapman
and W. Hall."
349
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Chapman and Hall ! For all literary folk those
names have a sort of melodious sound. We think of
them with interest because so inseparable from " Boz."
"Pickwick" does not look the same with other names
on the title-page. We like to see them just below the
image of ]\Ir. Pickwick, seated in his punt ; we even
like the names of their provincial agents — " Edinburgh :
John Menzies " ; " Dublin : James IMaglashan." It
was the fitting thing that all through, off and on
perhaps, his and their fortunes should be bound up
together. Chapman and Hall without " Boz " would
not be as they are ; " Boz " without Chapman and Hall
would not, perhaps, be as he is now. With them he
began ; with them ended. He is gone ; they are left.
Publishers may well envy the unique distinction which
associated Chapman and Hall with " Pickwick " — the
publishers of " Pickwick " now (1913) and then (1836-7).
It was a wonderful chance that led them to Furnival's
Inn — now levelled. By their simple undertaking
they really created a perfect literature — a vast
library — a stream of commentary that has gone on
tumbling its way along in a torrent from that day to
this. I knew Chapman about 1858. I doubt if there
be half-a-dozen now alive who recall " Little Hall."
I also knew very well Frederic Chapman, who joined
the firm in 1841, and became later head of it. An
excellent fellow he was, somewhat blunt and bluff, but
straightforward and good-natured. On his shoulders,
even when Edward Chapman was alive, lay the
burden. He was a tall, burly, rubicund man, and had
good business instinct. He had a small but delightful
house in Ovington Square, to which someone had
added a billiard-room, which he turned into a charming
dining-room. What tasty Lucullus-like dinners were
360
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
given there ! I cannot say how he managed the firm,
but when Dickens was aUve he tried to meet his wishes
in every conceivable way. Forster, too, he looked up
to almost reverentially. The firm was made into a
limited company in 1880. F. Chapman died in 1895.
The managing director of the firm to-day is I\Ir. Arthur
Waugh, the critic and biographer, who is carrying on
the traditions of bygone days, with Dickens as the
firm's basis of prosperity.
In March, 1847, died William Hall, and Boz and
Forster attended his funeral at Highgate. In one of
his letters Boz speaks tenderly of the loss of " poor
Hall." As we have seen, there was a curious connection
between Boz and this worthy man.
I recall ni}?^ first visit to the firm in Piccadill5\ John
Forster was with me, who strode in, all important, " as
though the whole place belonged to him." I was struck
with the general stately look, the bustle, the number
of clerks hurrying about. Forster was received with
infinite respect, for he dictated all things. The partners
were sent for, and I saw and was introduced to Hall, I
think. Young Frederic, as he was then, was waiting
on the great Forster.
Dickens's renewed connection with Chapman and
Hall was to be at first inauspicious enough. Their
joint venture of "Martin Chuzzlewit" proved com-
paratively unsuccessful, its circulation falling one-half,
and the publishers grew alarmed. They were to
have been repaid their advances in the Bentley
transaction out of the profits, but these falling
short, they spoke of appropriating £50 a month out of
the author's regular allowance. This was in June,
1843, and he was so offended that he began to think of
making proposals to another firm. " Mr. Hall should
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
have a piece of mj^ mind," he Avrote. Bradbury and
Evans were then his printers, and they received his
offer with some surprise ; but they were not very
confident in their prospect, which was, indeed, to start
as pubUshers for the first time. But owing to Forster's
sagacious advice Boz patched up his quarrel with his
pubHshers, on the grounds that they were about to
pubHsh for him, on commission, "A Christmas Carol,"
and the quarrel would not be exactly a stimulant to
their exertions. Unfortunately, as it turned out, when
the latter book appeared to be enjoying enormous
success, and he was expecting a clear £1,000 profit, he
only received, in February, one-half. This disappoint-
ment, with " terrific unpaid bills," reduced him to
misery and despair, and it determined him to finally
break with them. This slight but elegant little trifle
seems to have cost an enormous sum, namely,over £1,500,
to produce. It is easy to see that they were scared by
symptoms of failing popularity, by the prophecy in
one of the reviews that " having gone up like a rocket
he would come down like the stick," etc. They were
naturally alarmed as to the monies lent — " invested in
him " — which was part of the price for his labour. On
his side Boz had rashly embarked some thousands in
his longing to get free of what was galling him. Thus
had he bound himself in two serious obligations. Later,
Avhen he broke with Bradbury and Evans, it cost him
the useless purchase of Household Words, which he
destroyed so soon as it was purchased. These are
costly taxes on the indulgence of one's feelings. But
Boz could not rest under any menace of trouble. He
must mend or end it on the spot and on the moment
at whatever cost. It turned out after all later that the
profits of the " Carol " had not come in at the time, and
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
that they reached very nearly the amount he had
expected. Notwithstanding, he and Chapman and
Hall parted company. But he soon returned to them
again, and remained with them to the end ; and shortly
after his death, in 1870, the firin bought the copyright
of all his books. Their names now seem part and parcel
of Dickens, and in spite of the many reprints of each
book as it falls out of copyright, the public seem to
prefer those editions of his old firm, as recent
recorded sales indicate. It would take too much space
even to enumerate the various editions of his complete
works published by the firm ; but there is scarcely a
year passes that does not see some new venture on their
part, and it speaks well of their enterprise that recently
they have issued the most sumptuous edition yet pub-
lished, and also the cheapest edition one could desire.
" Bradbury and Evans " seems to us more of an
abstraction than the others. This may be owing to the
admixture of the printing element. After the " Christ-
mas Carol " disturbance Boz fled to their arms, and they
received him with joy. But the new firm little dreamed
what summary treatment was awaiting them some
years later. It was on June 1st, 1844, that Bradbury
and Evans signed a contract with him to advance him
£2,800, in return for which they were to have a fourth
share in whatever he miglit wTite during the next eight
years. This advance was no doubt to go to pay off his
late pubhshers. Thus, as Chapman and Hall had
" bought him out " from Bentley, so Bradbury and
Evans were to buy him out from Chapman.
Like Scott, Dickens in ordinary course might have
confined himself to a single firm of printers ; but, as it
turned out, he had three : this firm of Bradbury ;
Bentley (a connection of the publishers), for " Oliver
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
Twist" and "Grimaldi" ; and later Whitings. Hicks
was the foreman who superintended "Pickwick" through
the press, and the worthy Birtles, whom I knew so well,
looked after All the Year Round at Whitings.
The connection continued for some j^ears until the
tremendous explosion arising out of Dickens's pro-
clamation, the famous " Personal," occurred, which was
followed by quarrel and the law suits. Then came a com-
plete rupture, when he broke off all connection with them.
Being now without a publisher, he determined to
return to the Chapmans. This firm was infinitely more
suited to him. They were more flexible, more literary in
their entotirage, and they were always inclined to further
his wishes. The great success of his later books must
have caused them some twinges. They have now enjoyed
the fruits of the renewed connection for nearly fifty
years. The tale of the astounding number of copies
and editions of his books has often been told. I am
certain Boz felt infinitely more "comfortable" with
them. " Bleak House," " Dombey" and "Copperfield"
Avere the chief works associated with the house of
Bradbury, Evans and Co.
We know of two instances, at least, where Boz
became a little speculative, and seemed to be his own
publisher. The "Pictures from Italy," issued in 1846,
is described as being " published for the author by
Bradbury, Evans and Co." The "Tale of Two Cities,"
though issued by a regular publisher, was also to be
ordered at the All the Year Round Office, Wellington
Street.* " Hard Times " too was his own venture.
• Book collectors are familiar enough with the different editions of Oliver Tu-isl
in one, two or three volumes, all with the Cruikshank plates, but it is httle known
that in 1840 it was issued " in monthly parts, revised carefully by the author
thr(iut;hout," and (uniform with the Pickwick Papers). By th.t time, however,
tht^ plates must have been pretty much worn. The writer has a copy of Olirrr
whirli may bo the envy of bibliophilists. It consists of the parts in the
Mi.irillany, bound up with all the fine typo and the early impressions of the
plates.
354
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
It may have been that Boz had once a convict
pubUsher — certainly a pubHsher among convicts — as
in the instance of a very far off and unexpected issuing
of his " Pickwick Papers" in Van Dieman's Land, of all
places in the world. He talks somewhere of " Botany
Bay assurance," but this was a wonderful effort and
worthy of all admiration ; for to bring out a work of
fiction in a penal colony was indeed something heroic.
The book is now open before me, and is, we may well
imagine, a scarce thing and a great curio. It is really
very respectably done, somewhat rough and crude in
execution, but still passable enough. A copy from
England may have come out in one of the gruesome
convict ships. On the title-page we read that it was
" illustrated after Phiz," and that it was published in
V. D. Land
Henry Bowling, Launceston
1838
Bowling says he was not only publisher but also printer
of the book. At first it looked as though he got out
sets of sheets from London, but the type has a sort of
exotic aspect. In a very modest, not to say humble,
address Bowling asks indulgence for his bantling : —
"It is confidently beheved that the present reprint
of the Pickivick Papers is the largest publication which
has issued from either the New South Wales or the
Tasmanian Press. It is hoped that not only is it the
largest, but that it will be pronounced by the public to
be the best executed typographical work that has been
published in these Colonies. The publisher can assure
his subscribers that no trouble or expense has been
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
spared to secure it such a distinction. The trouble and
expense have, indeed, been considerable — greater than
was originally contemplated ; but it was thought that
if any publication would repay the cost of its production
it would be the far-famed Pichivick Papers.
" The original work was produced, as the colonial
public are aware, in monthly parts. Its popularity was
so unprecedently great that 30,000 copies of each
number were regularly sold off. No wTiter, perhaps,
ever enjoyed a popularity so great as that obtained by
Mr. Dickens for his Pickwick Papers. Every class of
periodical, from the aristocratic Quarterly Review to the
penny newspaper, joined in spontaneous applause of
the work. It is impossible for the gravest person to
read its pages and resist the varied humour in which
they abound.
" It remains for the Tasmanian publisher to add
that in order to render his work at once acceptable to
subscribers and creditable to the colony he has been
at the expense of procuring a series of illustrations to
his reprint, after the most humorous of the original
designs which accompanied the English pubhcation,
by ' Phiz.' These illustrations will be found fully
equal to the original, and as the work of a colonial
artist, will preserve to the reprint its character of a
purely colonial publication."
Dowling clearly is not a little proud of his work
and complacently satisfied with the credit that it must
bring to his colony. No doubt the type was set by
convict printers. It will be seen that he had to issue
it by subscription, so as to be secured, in some degree,
against loss. I have little doubt, however, that poor
Dowling did lose by his venture. Some six hundi-ed
CHARLES DICKENS'S PUBLISHERS
closely printed octavo pages was a risky thing. The
illustrations are indifferent enough — the unindulgent
would call them shocking — by no means equal to
" Phiz," as claimed, and of a " scratchy " sort. They
are signed by " Tiz "—a mild colonial jest— and are
tolerably faithfully copied.
Publishers in the United States were not slack
in coining money out of the work of the young English
■writer. "Pickwick," above all, was their prey, and on
no book did the piratical horde settle with such avidity.
They all competed with each other, as well they might,
for there was nothing to pay. I believe Dickens deeply
resented and never forgave this treatment, for it
inflamed him to indignation to see the large sums the
Americans were paying to read him, in which he could
have no share. This was the true reason for his visit
to the States, an inspiration half formed to try and
reshape the copyi-ight law. Nothing less attractive
than these American issues can be conceived. As the
object was to undersell each other, everything that
could be saved was spared — the paper was inferior and
ill-coloured, the print poor, the whole offering a
singularly mean look. But cheap they were : some were
in double columns ; others, less objectionable, in a
small pocket size, to match the " Waverley Novels." In
this shape " Pickwick " filled five volumes. The names
of these pirates were Turney, Peterson and Lea. There
were fair and excellent people — some, like Ticknor and
Fields, were true friends — but we can say none treated
him with a handsome liberality. This is, I have no
doubt, what inflamed the bitter dislike to the Americans
that is exhibited in "Martin Chuzzlewit." The Harpers'
honorarium of £1,000 for a magazine paper was showy
enough and a bit of good advertisement. In this con-
357
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
nection there was a little episode which few know of,
and which involved him in a dispute with some Phila-
delphia publishers, Patterson & Co. In rather heated
language he had accused his Americans of sending him
the poorest remuneration. These people took up the
challenge, and certainly furnished a list of payments
from all sorts and conditions of publishers of rather
respectable amount. The paper will be found at the
end of a curious life of Boz, issued in the States, and
the work of an American doctor. It may be added
that other exotic editions were issued at Calcutta.
VI
APPENDIX
.ppendix
APPENDIX A
STATEMENT OF MESSRS. BRADBURY AND EVANS IN
THE "personal" DISPUTE
"MR. CHARLES DICKENS AND HIS LATE PUBLISHERS
" Messrs. Bradbury and Evans are permitted to
avail themselves of the present opportunity to explain
the cessation of their connection with Household Words,
by which they are at liberty to take part in the estab-
lishment of Once a Week. Their explanation only
concerns themselves, and that only in reference to the
close of their relations with Mr. Charles Dickens, as
Editor or Conductor of the former work. Although
the circumstances have been freely canvassed in various
publications, Bradbury and Evans have themselves
hitherto made no public statement on the subject ;
but they now feel that the time has come to break the
silence they have maintained, and thus to protect
themselves from further misconstruction.
" Their connection with Household Words ceased
against their will, under circumstances of which the
following are material :
" So far back as 1836 Bradbury and Evans had
business relations with Mr. Dickens, and in 1844 an
agreement was entered into by which they acquired
361
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
an interest in all the works he might WTite, or in any
periodical he might originate during a term of seven
years. Under this agreement Bradbury and Evans
became possessed of a joint, though unequal interest
with Mr. Dickens in Household Words, commenced in
1850. Friendly relations had simultaneously sprung
up between them, and they were on terms of close
intimacy in 1858, when circumstances led to Mr.
Dickens's publication of a statement on the subject of
his conjugal differences in various newspapers, including
Household Words of June the 12th.
" The public disclosure of these differences took
most persons by surprise, and was notoriously the
subject of comments, by no means complimentary to
Mr. Dickens himself, as regarded the taste of this
proceeding. On the 17th of June, however, Bradbury
and Evans learnt from a common friend that Mr.
Dickens had resolved to break off his connection with
them because this statement was not printed in the
number of Punch published the day preceding — in other
words, because it did not occur to Bradbury and Evans
to exceed their legitimate functions as Proprietors and
Publishers, and to require the insertion of statements
on a domestic and painful subject in the inappropriate
columns of a comic miscellany. No previous request
for the insertion of this statement had been made either
to Bradbury and Evans, or to the Editor of Punch, and
the grievance of Mr. Dickens substantially amounted
to this, that Bradbury and Evans did not take upon
themselves, unsolicited, to gratify an eccentric wisli by
a preposterous action.
" Mr. Dickons, with ample time for reflection,
persisted in the attitude he had taken up, and in the
following November summoned a meeting of the
362
APPENDIX
Proprietors of Household Words. He did not himself
attend this meeting ; but a Uterary friend of Mr.
Dickens came to it as his representative, and announced
there officially that Mr. Dickens, in consequence of the
non-appearance in Punch of his statement, considered
that Bradbury and Evans had shown such disrespect
and want of good faith towards him as to determine
him, in so far as he had the power, to disconnect himself
from them in business transactions ; and the friend
above mentioned, on the part of Mr. Dickens, accord-
ingly moved a resolution dissolving the partnership,
and discontinuing the work on May 28th. Bradbury
and Evans replied that they did not, and could not
believe that this was the sole cause of INIr. Dickens'
altered feeling towards them ; but they were assured
that it loas the sole cause, and that Mr. Dickens desired
to bear testimony to their integrity and zeal as his
publishers, but that his resolution was formed, and
nothing would alter it. Bradbury and Evans repeatedly
pressed Mr. Dickens's friend upon this point, but with
no other result.
" Thus, on this ground alone, Mr. Dickens put an
end to personal and business relations of long standing,
and by an unauthorised and premature public announce-
ment of the cessation of Household Words he forced
Bradbury and Evans to an unwilling recourse to the
Court of Chancery to restrain him from such proceedings
thereby injuring the valuable property, in which others
besides himself were interested. In fact, by his mode
proceeding, he inflicted as much injury as his oppor-
tunities permitted. Not having succeeded in pur-
chasing the share of his partners at his own price, he
depreciated the value of this share by all the agencies
at his command. By publicly announcing (so far as
363
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
the Court of Chancery permitted) his intention to
discontinue the publication of Household Words ; by
advertising a second work of a similar class under his
management, by producing it, and by making it as
close an imitation as was legall}^ safe of Household
Words, while that publication was actually still issuing,
and still conducted by him, he took a course calculated
to reduce the circulation and impair the prospects of a
common property ; and if he inflicted this injury on his
partners, it is no compensation to them that he simul-
taneously sacrificed his own interests in the publication
he is about to suppress.
" Household Words liaAang been sold on the 16th
inst. under a decree in Chancery, Bradbury and Evans
have no further interest in its continuance, and are now
free to make this personal statement, and to associate
themselves in the establishment of Once a Week.
"'May, 1859."
364
APPENDIX B
Dickens's own contributions to his two
journals
It seems an extraordinary thing that during a long
series of years nobody showed any curiosity to learn
what papers in the two journals were of his composi-
tion. He himself had selected a few of what he thought
best worthy of preservation and as having merit, and
which filled a small volume. But they were not a tithe
of the whole. But the selection shows how excellent
was his judgment, and how nice his taste. For the
rest do not compare in merit with this choice. They
are both ephemeral and inferior, and the collections
made recently prove this. Rechauffes of this kind,
even from the best hands, do not always answer. That
painstaking commentator, the late IMr. Kitton, went
through the Household Words with the author's son —
groping, as it were — and made out a conjectural list.
But all the time there was actually lying among Wills's
papers the old office book containing the titles, also
the name of each \vriter. This record is now in
Mr. Lehmann's possession.
As to the contributions in the All The Year Round,
Sir. Kitton, however, was more fortunate in meeting
with Mr. W. H. Howe, who possessed the office book
of that journal, though by an unlucky chance the
volume has disappeared. A full list has been furnished
by !Mr. Kitton, and it is fortunate that we have it, for
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
it supplies most striking evidence as to the energy and
industry of the untiring Boz.
''HOUSEHOLD WORDS."
Serial Contributions.
1851.— Jan. 25 to Dec. 10 : A Child's History of
England.
1854.— April 1 to Aug. 12: Hard Times: For
these Times.
Occasional Papers.
1850.— March 30 : A Preliminary Word, pp. 1-2 ;
The Amusements of the People (First Paper), pp. 13-15.
April 6, A Child's Dream of a Star, pp. 25-26 ; Perfect
Felicity in a Bird's-Eye View, pp. 36-38. April 13:
The Household Narrative, p 49 ; The Amusements of
the People (Second Paper), pp. 57-60. May 11 : From
the Raven in the Happy Family (First Paper), pp. 156-
158. May 18 : The Begging-Letter Writer, pp. 169-
172. May 25 : A Walk in the Workhouse, pp. 204-
207. June 8 : From the Raven in the Happy Family
(Second Paper), pp. 241-242. June 15 : Old Lamps for
New Ones, pp. 265-267. June 22 : The Sunday Screw,
pp. 289-292. July 20 : The Ghost of Art, pp. 385-387.
July 27 : A Detective Police Party (First Paper), pp.
409-414. Aug. 10 : A Detective Police Party (Second
Paper), pp. 457-460. Aug. 24 : From the Raven in the
Happy Family (Third Paper), pp. 505-507. Sept. 14 :
Three " Detective " Anecdotes, pp. 577-580. Oct.
19 : A Poor Man's Tale of a Patent, pp. 73-75. Oct.
26 : Lively Turtle, pp. 97-99. Dec. 14 : A December
Vision, pp. 265-267.
1851.— Feb. 22 : " Births.— Mrs. Meek, of a Son,"
pp. 505-507. March 8 : A Monument of French Folly,
APPENDIX
pp. 553-558. March 22: Bill-Sticking, pp. 160-606.
May 10 : The Guild of Literature and Art, pp. 145-147.
June 14 : On duty with Inspector Field, pp. 265-270.
June 28 : A Few Conventionalities, pp. 313-315.
Aug. 2 : Our Watering-Place, pp. 433-436. Aug. 23 :
Whole Hogs, pp. 505-507. Aug. 30 : A Flight, pp. 529-
533. Oct. 11 : Our School, pp. 49-52.
1852.— July 31 : Our Honourable Friend, pp. 453-
455. Aug. 28 : Our Vestry, pp. 548-552. Oct. 9 : Our
Bore, pp. 73-76. Oct. 30 : Lying Awake, pp. 145-148.
Nov. 27 : Trading in Death, pp. 241-245.
1853.— Feb. 5: Down with the Tide, pp. 481-485.
June 11: The Noble Savage, pp. 337-339. Oct. 1 :
Frauds on the Fairies, pp. 97-100. Dec. 31 : The Long
Voyage, pp. 409-412.
1854.— March 25: The late Mi. Justice Talfourd,
pp. 117-118. Nov. 4: Our French Watering-Place,
pp. 265-270.
1855.— Feb. 3 : That Other PubUc, pp. 1-4. Feb. 17 :
Prince Bull : a Fairy Tale, pp. 49-51. April 21 : The
Thousand and One Humbugs (First Paper), pp. 265-
267. April 28: The Thousand and One Humbugs
(Second Paper), pp. 289-292. May 5 : The Thousand
and One Humbugs (Third Paper), pp. 313-316.
June 16 : By Rail to Parnassus, pp. 477-480. June 23 :
Smuggled Relations, pp. 481^83. Aug. 4 : The Great
Baby, pp. 1^. Aug. 11 : Our Commission, pp. 25-27.
Aug. 25 : The Worthy Magistrate, p. 73. Sept. 29 :
Out of Town, pp. 193-196.
1856. — Jan. 26 : A Nightly Scene in London, pp.
25-27. Feb. 2 : The Friend of the Lions, pp. 61-63.
May 3 : Proposals for a National Jest-Book, pp. 361-
364. June 14 : The Demeanour of Murderers, pp. 505-
507. June 28 : Out of the Season, pp. 553-556.
367
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
1857. — Aug. 1 : Curious ^Misprint in the Edinburgh
Review, pp. 97-100.
1858.— June 12: Personal, p. 601.
1859.— Feb. 5: Douglas Jerrold, pp. 217-222.
May 28 : All the Year Round (an Address), p. 601 ;
A Last Household Word, p. 620.
The following were written in collaboration with
other \vriters : —
Serial Contributions.
1857.— Oct. 3 to 31 : The Lazy Tour of Two Idle
Apprentices (with Wilkie Collins).
Occasional Papers.
1850.— March 30 : Valentine's Day at the Post-
Office (with W. H. Wills). April 27 : Pet Prisoners.
May 4 : The Heart of Mid-London (with W. H. Wills).
June 1 : A Popular Delusion (with W. H. Wills). July 6 :
The Old Lady in Threadneedle Street (with W. H.
Wills). Sept. 7 and 21 : Two Chapters on Bank-Note
Forgeries (with W. H. Wills, part of second Chapter by
Dickens). Sept. 21 : Foreigners' Portraits of English-
men. Nov. 16 : Household Words and English Wills.
1851.— Feb. 1 : Plate Glass (with W. H. Wills).
April 5: Spitalfields (with W. H. Wills). April 26:
The Metropolitan Protectives (with W. H. Wills).
June 7 : Epsom (with W. H. Wills). Sept. 6 : One Man
in a Dockyard (with R. H. Home). Dec. 6 : My Uncle
{with W. H. Wills).
1852. — Jan. 17 : A Curious Dance round a Curious
Tree (with W. H. Wills). March 20 : Post-Office Money
Orders (with W. H. Wills). April 24 : A Plated Article
^vith W. H. Wills).
368
APPENDIX
1853. — March 19 : Received, A Blank Cheque (with
W. H. Wills). June 4 : Idiots (with W. H. Wills).
1854. — Jan. 21 : Fire and Snow.
1855.— Feb. 10 : Gaslight Fairies.
''ALL THE YEAR ROUNDS
Serial Stories.
1859.— April 30 to Nov. 26 : A Tale of Two Cities.
1860. — Aug. 4 to 11 : Hunted Down ; a story in
Two Portions.
1860-61.— Dec. 1, 1860, to Aug. 3, 1861 : Great
Expectations.
1868.— Jan. 25, Feb. 8, March 14, April 4 : Holiday
Romance ; in Four Parts. Feb. 1, 15, 29 : George
Silverman's Explanation.
Occasional Papers.
1859.— April 30 : The Poor Man and His Beer, pp.
13-16. Sept. 24 : Five New Points of Criminal Law,
p. 517. Dec. 24 : Leigh Hunt : A Remonstrance, pp.
206-208. Dec. 31 : The Tattlesnivel Bleater, pp.
226-229.
I860.— Jan. 28, The Uncommercial Traveller (First
Series) : (1) His General Line of Business : The Ship-
wTeck, pp. 321-326 ; Feb. 18, (2) Wapping Workhouse,
pp. 392-396; Feb. 25, (3) Two Views of a Cheap
Theatre, pp. 416-421 ; March 10, (4) Poor Mercantile
Jack, pp. 462^66; March 24, (5) Refreshments for
Travellers, pp. 512-516 ; April 7, (6) Travelling Abroad,
pp. 557-562 ; April 21, (7) The Great Tasmania's Cargo,
pp. 37-40 ; May 5, (8) City of London Churches, p. 85-
89 ; May 26, (9) Shy Neighbourhoods, pp. 155-159 ;
MEMORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS
June 16, (10) Tramps, pp. ^ 230-234 ; June 30, (11)
Dullborough Town, pp. 274-278 ; July 21, (12) Night
Walks, pp. 348-352 ; Aug. 18, (13) Chambers, pp. 452-
456 ; Sept. 8, (14) Nurses' Stories, pp. 517-521 ; Sept.
29, (15) Arcadian London, pp. 588-591 ; Oct. 13,
(16) The Italian Prisoner, pp. 13-17.
1862. — March 1 : The Young Jlan from theTountry,
pp. 540-542. March 8 : An EnUghtened Clergyman,
p. 558.
1863.— March 21 : Rather a Strong Dose, pp. 84-
87. April 4 : The MartjT Medium, pp. 133-136. May
2, The Uncommercial Traveller (Second Series) : (1) The
Calais Night Mail, pp. 229-233; May 16, (2) Some
Reco t ions of Mortahty, pp. 276-280 ; June 6,
(3) Birthday Celebrations, pp. 348-352 ; June 20, (4)
The Short-Timers, pp. 397-401 ; July 4, (5) Bound for
the Great Salt Lake, pp. 444-449 ; July 18, (6) The City
of the Absent, pp. 493-496 ; Aug. 1, (7) An old Stage-
Coaching House, pp. 540-543 ; Aug. 15, (8) The Boiled
Beef of New England, pp. 588-591 ; Aug. 29, (9)
Chatham Dockyard, pp. 12-16; Sept. 12, (10) In the
French-Flemish Country, pp. 61-65; Sept. 26, (11)
Medicine Men of Civilisation, pp. 108-111 ; Oct. 24,
(12) Titbull's Almshouses, pp. 205-210. Dec. 26:
Note (signed), p. 419.
1867.— June 1 : The late Mr. Stanfield, p. 537.
1868.— June 6 : A Debt of Honour, p. 610. Sept.
19 and 26 ; New Series of All the Year Round, pp. 360,
361 (Editorial announcement, signed ; reprinted Nov.
28, p. 596). Oct. 10: The Ruffian (By the Uncom-
mercial Traveller), pp. 421^24. Dec. 5: To the
Public, p. 1 (Editorial paragraph, signed) ; New
Uncommercial Samples: (1) Aboard Ship, pp. 12-17;
Dec. 19, (2) A Small Star in the East, pp. 61-66.
APPENDIX
1869. — Jan. 2, New Uncommercial Samples (con-
tinued) : (3) A Little Dinner in an Hour, pp. 108-111 ;
Jan. 16, (4) Mr. Barlow, pp. 156-159. Feb. 13: A
Slight Question of Fact, p. 253. Feb. 27, New Uncom-
mercial Samples (continued) : (5) On an Amateur Beat,
pp. 300-303; May 22, (6) A Fly-leaf in a Life, pp.
589-591 ; June 5, (7) A Plea for Total Abstinence,
pp. 13-15. July 24 : Landor's Life, pp. 181-185.
371
INDEX
135.
'132.
'• Abraham, the Fire-worshipper
Actors, Retreat for old, 19, 21. 2
Addison, Miss, 294.
" Adventures of a Traaslati
Ainger, Canon, 246 (n.).
Ains«rorth,W.H., 283-4.
Aitken, Mary C, 89, 98. ^
" AU The Year Round," 63, 72, 175,
189-243, 261, 274, 30S. 313,
322, 354, 369-71.
AlUngham, W., 135.
American publishers, 358-9.
" Amusements tor the People," 135-7
" Amy Robsart," 294,
Anecdotes. See Stories told.
" Angel in the House, The," 307.
" Annesley Cause, The," 282.
Arabian Nights, Parody of, 133.
" Armadale," 222.
" Art of Boreing, The," 133.
" Astrologer, The," 126.
" At Home and Abroad," 140.
" Atlantic Waves," 132.
" Aunt Margaret's Trouble," 312.
Austin, A., 51.
" Awful Mr. Hall, Tlie," 142.
Bailey, Haynes, 344.
Bangor, 29.
Banvard, Mr., 172.
" Barbox Brothers," 16.
Barham, R. H., 343.
" Barnaby Rudge," 348-9.
" BasU," 260.
" Bee, The," 111-
BeUast, 59, 82.
" Bella Donna," 32, 69, 222, 342.
Bentley (printer), 354.
Bentley, Richard, 69, 341-9, 352.
" Birds' Eye Paris," 51.
Birtles, 51, 69, 70, 354.
Bishop, H. R., 146.
" Black and White," 264.
Blanchard, E. L., 126.
" Bleak House," 150, 153. 155, 354.
Blewitt, Octavius, 233.
Bonchurch, 299.
Bonomi, Mr., 172.
Booley, Mr., 172.
Boyle, Mary, 28, 298.
Boz Club, The, 293.
Bradbury and Evans, 123, 13o, 191-3,
352-4, 361-4.
Brees, Mr., 172.
" Bridge of Sighs, The," 67.
" Brigand, The," 12.
Bright, .!., 86.
Bristol, Dean of, 28.
" Brook, The," 326.
Brougham, Lord, 86.
" Brought to the Bar," 265.
I Broxvne, H. K., 88, 346.
Browning, E. B., 299.
Browning, R-, 284.
Buckland, G., 68.
375
INDEX
Bulwer. See Lytton.
Burke, Sir Bernard, 65
Burns, R., 97.
Buss, W., 347.
Canning, Sir Stratford, 295.
" Canny Brook, A," 133.
Carlyle, T., 26, 32, 84-99, 275.
Carlyle, Mrs. T., 276.
Cary, E. S., 327.
" Cassell's Magazine," 308.
" Castle of Andalusia, The," 45.
Cavendish, Ada, 264.
Chalk, 15.
" Chambers's Edinburgh Journal," 2,
111, 126-7.
Chapman and Hall, 33G-7, 349, 350,
355.
Chapman, E., 350.
Chapman, F., 166, 284, 350.
" Charles Lamb and Charles Dickens,"
49.
" Child's Dream of a Star, A," 137.
" Child's History of England, A," 154.
" China with a Flaw in it," 133.
Chisholm, Caroline, 135, 299.
Chorley, H. F., 306.
Christmas, Articles relating to, 148.
Christmas, Dickens's love of, 145 ct scq.
"Christmas Carol, A.," 147, 353-4.
" Clarion," 135, 137.
Clement, W. J., 324.
" Cloister and the Hearth, The," 283.
Cobden, R., 80.
Cobham, 15.
Cochrane and Macrone, 336.
Cockburn, A., 86.
Colbum, Henry, 341.
Coleridge, Lord, 86.
Collins, C. A., 19-21, 27, 202, 265.
Colhns, Mrs. C. A., 81.
CoHins, Wilkie, 63, 191, 203, 219,
221-2, 225, 260 ct seq., 331, 370.
Corapton (actor), 50.
" Confessions of a Thug," 284.
Cook, Dutton, 319.
Cooper. Fenimore, 344.
Comhill, 207, 293 (n.), 310.
Cornwall, Barry. See B. W. Procter.
" Coroner's Inquest, A," 140, 155.
Costello, Dudley, 307.
Cruikshank, G., 150-1, 339, 343.
" Cruise upon Wheels, A," 265.
Cumniings (musician), 78.
Cunningham, Peter, 314.
" Curious misprint in ' The Edinburgh
Review,' " 150.
" Curious Dance Round a Cliristmas
Tree," 159.
" Daily News, The," 119, 292, 308.
'• Dark Night's Work," 153.
Damley, Lord, 15.
" David CopperSeld," 355.
'• Day's Toiur, A," 210, 309.
" Dead Reckoning at the Morgue,"
133.
" Dead Secret, The," 222, 261.
Debtors' Prison, The, 156.
Delane, J. T., 190.
"Deserted Village, The," 167.
" Detective Police Party at the Office,"
1-10.
Dickens and Evans, 244 (n.).
Dickeus, Charles : American pub-
lishers, 358.
Articles, Novels, etc., by, referred
to—
" An Executor," 197.
" At Home and Abroad," 140.
•• Awful Mr. Hall, The," 142.
" Barbox Brothers," 16.
" Bamaby Rudge," 348-9.
"Bleak House," 150, 153, 155,
354.
" Child's Dream of a Star," 137.
" Child's History of England, 154.
" Christmas, Articles relating to,"
148.
INDEX
Dickens, Charles — continued.
Articles, etc. — continued.
'• Christmas Carol, A," 147, 353-4.
Contribiitions to " All the Year
Round," 369-71.
Contributions to Bentley's, 345
et seq.
Contributions to " Household
Words," 365-9.
Contributions to " Monthly
Magazine," 337 (n.).
" Coroner's Inquest, A," 140, 155.
" Ciu-ious Misprint in the ' Edin-
burgh Review,' " 150.
" David Copperfield," 355.
" Detective Police Party at the
Office," 140.
'• Dingley Dell," 31, 147, 150.
" Dombey and Son," 163, 355.
"Dust," 155.
" Flight, A," 143, 183.
" Frauds on the Fairies," 151.
" Great Expectations," 204-5.
" Grimaldi," 347, 354.
" Hard Times," 161, 163, 181.
" Leigh Hunt, a Remonstrance,"
185.
"little Dorrit," 156.
" Martin Chuzzlemt," 352, 358.
" Modem Science of Thief-taking,
The," 140.
" Mr. Slinns and his Cousin," 337.
"Mugby Junction," 16.
" Music in Humble Life," etc.,
140.
" My Wonderful Adventures in
Skitzland," 140.
" Mystery of Ed\rin Drood, The,"
81.
" New Lamps for Old Ones," 140,
171.
"Nicholas Nickleby," 117, 347.
"No Thoroughfare," 157.
" Oliver Twist," 344-9, 354-5.
" Our English Watering-place,"
183.
" Our French Watering-place,"
183.
Dickens, Charles — continued.
Articles, etc. — conlimicd.
"Our Mutual Friend," 22, 24,
155, 233.
" Our School," 140, 142.
'• Out of the Season." 143.
" Out of Town," 143.
" Pavilionstone," 182.
" Pickwick Papers, The," 24, 113,
117, 156, 233, 341-51, 355-8.
" Pictiu-es from Italy," 355.
" Poor Man and hisBeer, The," 202
" Poor Man's Tale of a Patent,
A," 133, 184.
" Popular Delusion, A," 140.
" Public Life of Mr. Tulrumble,
The," 344.
'■ Red Tape," 155.
" Royal Rotten Row Commis-
sion," 140.
" Sketches by Boz," 140.
" Tale of Two Cities," 201-2,355.
" Uncommercial Traveller, The,"
235-6.
" What Christmas is as we grow
older," 147.
" Whole Hogs," 152.
[In conjunction with W. H. Wills]
" Ciuious Dance Round a Christ-
mas Tree," 159.
" Master Humphrey's Clock,"
109 el seq.
" Plated Article, A," 140.
And see p. 370.
Attack on, 10.
Bentleys, Relations with, 342 el seq.
Busts of, 2, 4.
Charities of, 177 et seq.
Compared with Lytton, 24.
Scott, 106, 113, 302,
354.
Thackeray, 112.
Criticisms on, 150.
Death of, 82.
" Declining with thanks," 322 el seq.
Dogs, 11-13.
Dramatization of Stories of, 293.
Handwriting of, 223.
INDEX
Dickens, Charles — continued.
Letters to P. Fitzgerald, 6, 9, 10, 13,
14, 17, 29, 34-6, 46, 47, 50-3,
57, 61-8, 70-5.
Literary Executor of C. H.
Tomishend, 315.
Love of Christmas, 145 et seq.
"Monthly Magazine," 337.
"Morning Chronicle," 111.
Publishers of, 355 et seq.
Relations with wife, 189 et seq.
Short Story, His use of, 113.
Shorthand writer. 111.
" Sketches " by, 337.
Sympathy with the Poor, 113.
Will of, 98.
Dickens, C, the younger, 18, 20, 27,
63. 197, 235, 244 et seq.
Dickens, Fanny, 138.
Dickens, Henry, 5, 28.
Dickens, Mary, 17, 27, 54-5. 81, 168,
216.
Dickensese, 248, 254.
" Dingloy Dell," 31, 147, 150.
" Disappearance of John Acland,
The," 279.
" Doctor's Mixture, The," 75, 80, 82.
Dodd, W., 95.
" Dog of Montargis," 11.
Dolby, George, 31, 48, 58-63, 235.
" Dombey and Son," 163, 355.
Doran, Dr., 319.
Dowling. Henry, 355.
Dramatization of Stories of Dickens,
293.
DubUn, 61.
Dumas, A, 108, 258.
" Dust," 155.
" Edinburgh Review, The," 150.
Elwin, W.. 92, 281.
Ely, Miss, 28.
Emery, S. A. (actor). 294.
" Emigrants Letters," 137.
"Examiner, The," 110.
" Executor, An," 197.
" Experience, An," 70.
" Eye Witness, The," 2
" Fatal Watch, The," 231.
" Fatal Zero," 63, 226.
Fenn, G. M., 308.
Fields (American publisher), 357.
" Figure-heads," 29.
Fildes, Sir Luke, 78.
Fitzgerald, P., Letters to, 6, 9, 10, 13,
14, 17, 29, 34-6, 46-7, 50-3, 57,
61-8, 70-5.
Fitzgerald, P., Plays, Stories, etc., by,
11, 12, 32, 34, 49-52, 55, 57, 63,
67, 69, 70, 73, 75-6, 95, 208,
222, 225, 226, 228, 230-L
Fitzgerald, Mrs. Percy, 65, 70, 78-9.
" Flight, A," 143. 183.
Forster, J., 2-4, 8, 14, 16, 21, 23, 25-6,
29, 33, 37, 66, 84-99, 104, 110,
115, 118-9, 123-4, 134, 155,
158, 163-5, 176, 190, 194 (n.),
204, 215, 218, 232, 261, 265.
274, 281, 284, 297. 313-4,
337-8, 341. 351-2.
Forster, ilrs., 73.
" Framley Parsonage," 312.
" Frauds on the Fairies," 151.
Freake, Lady, 81.
Frith, W. P„ 86.
" Frozen Deep, The," 191.
Fumival's Inn, 2.
G
Gad's Hill, 15-17. 19. 25. 27, 54, 183.
Gaiety Theatre, The, 293.
" Gamester, The," 43.
Garrick, D., 15, 32, 91.
Garrick, D., Life of, 76, 267. 273.
Gaskell, Mrs.. 132, 153, 267-70, 324.
" Gentleman's Magazine, The," 72.
" George, Barnwell," 43.
" George Silverman," 47.
" German Adventure," 132.
" German Picture of the Scotch, A,"
133.
Gladstone, W. E., 86.
Gleig, G. R., 344.
Goldsmith, 0., 111.
Goldsmith, 0., Life of, 2, 88.
"Good Hippopotamus, The," 132
Gordon, Lady Duff, 298.
" Gossip about Brussels," 132.
Goyon, General, 254.
" Great Expectations," 204-5.
" Great Man Milliner, The," 230.
Grieve, Thomas, 172.
" Grimaldi," 347, 354.
Grove, Crawford. 81.
Guizot, F. P. G., 86.
H
Hall, W. (of Chapman and Hall),
336-7, 351-2.
HaUe, C, 78.
HalUday, A., 20, 28, 289, 293.
Handbook to Londoa, 314.
Hannay, J., 313.
" Happy Pair, A," 81.
" Hard Cash," 280.
" Hard Times," 161, 163, 181.
" Haunted London," 202.
Hawker, R. S., 296.
" Head of the Family, The," 299.
" Heir of Redclyffe, The," 299.
Heraud,S. A.,311.
Hicks (foreman printer), 354.
Higham, 3L
Hogarth, George, 135, 291, 342. 346.
Hogarth, Miss, 27, 216, 262, 292.
Holdsworth, 178.
" Hohday Romance," 47.
HoUingshead, J., 20, 43, 126, 140, 292.
" Holy Tree Inn, The," 147.
" Holme Lee," 300.
Hook, Theodore, 344.
Home, R. H., 173, 317, 370.
" Household Words," 4, 42, 103-44,
175, 270. 276, 291, 297, 307,
310, 314. 352, 365-9.
" Household Words," Agreement a-s
to, 122.
Howe, W. H., 367.
Howitt, Mary, 298.
Howitt, William, 298.
Hudson (actor), 12.
Hughes, H.istings, 81.
"Humbugs," 133.
Humphrey, W. H., M.P.,28.
Hunt, Leigh, Ul, 135, 167, 185.
I
" Idiots Again," 133.
" Illustrated Times, The," 290, 292
Imprisonment for Debt, 156.
Inderwick, Mr., 64.
" Ion," 283.
" Irish Stationer.?, The," 132.
" Irish Use of the Globe, The," 132.
Irving, H., 108.
Irving, Washington, 114.
" Is he Popenjoy," 313.
" Jenny Bell," 222.
Jerdan, W., 284-5.
Jerrold, Blanchard, 313.
Jerrold, Douglas, 279, 311.
Jewsbury, Geraldine, 275.
Joachim, 78.
Johnson, S., 32, 69, 85, 88, 91,
Jolly, Miss, 325.
" Joshua Davidson," 274.
" Journey due North, A," 256.
" Justice to the Hj'aena," 133.
Kavanagh, Julia, 276.
Kent, C, 28, 125, 262, 273, 319.
" Key of the Street, The," 255.
King, Dr., 240 (n.).
King, Miss, 298.
" King and his Commons, The,"
Kitton. 190(n.), 367.
Knebworth, 19. 21, 27.
Knight, C, 20.
INDEX
Lamb, C, 86.
Landor, \V. S., 8.
Landor, W. S., Life of, 27.5.
" Landseer of Fiction, The," 11.
Landseer, Sir Edwin, 78, 86.
Lang, 142.
" Lazy Tour, The," 262-4.
Le Fanu, J. S., 301.
" Le Myosoti-s," 81.
Leech, J., 88, 200.
Lehman, Mrs., 96.
Lehmann, Rudolph, 172, 175, 202 (n.),
239, 367.
" Leigh Hunt, a Remonstrance," 185.
Leigh, Pcrcival, 313.
Lemon, Mark, 190-1, 193.
" Les Vieux Gar9ons," 82.
Lever, C, 204, 210, 308.
Lewis, Sir G. C, 86.
Linton. Mrs. Lynn, 267, 273 et teg.
Literary Fimd, The, 232. 285.
" Literary Gazette, The." 285.
" Little Doi-rit," 156.
" Little Em'ly," 294.
•' Lizzie Leigh," 132, 268.
" London Journal. The," 111.
Longworth, Theresa, 228.
" Lost Sir Massingberd," 25.
" Love Affair at Cranford, A," 269.
Lover, S., 344.
" Lucile," 278.
Lytton, Sir E. B., 19, 21, 28, 35, 80,
209.
Lytton, Robert, 92, 94, 278.
'' Mabel's Progress," 313.
Maelise, D., 86, 88.
Macready. W. C, 61, 283.
Macready. Miss Kate, 277.
Macrone (of Cochrane and Macrone)
336 ei scg.
Maginn, Dr., 344.
" Man and Wife," 264.
Marryat, Floi-ence, 297.
" Martin Chuzzlewit," 352, 358.
Martineau, Harriet, 267, 270-3.
" Martyrs to Circumstances," 229.
" Mary Barton," 268.
" Master Humphrey's Clock," 109,
162.
Meason, Laing, 313.
" Member for Nowhere, The," 134.
Meredith, George, 313.
Merivale, Herman, 81.
" Mildrington, the Barrister," 342.
Millais, J. E. 81,86.
" Miller and his Men, The," 12, 41-5.
Mimmery, The, 51.
" Miss Manuel," 34.
" Missing a Married Gentleman," 133.
" Missionary, The," 271.
" Modem Science of Thief-taking,
The," 140.
Jlonahan, Chief Justice, 228.
" Monthly, The," 336-7.
" Moonstone, The," 262, 265.
Moore, George, 54.
Moore, T., 97.
" More M'ork for the Ladies," 133.
Morier, J. J„ 344.
Morlcy, Prof. Henry, 141, 234, 321.
" Morning Chronicle, The," 111.
Morwcnstow, Vicar of. See Hawker.
" Mr. Arie," 326.
" Mr. Minns and his Cousin," 337.
" Slugby Junction," 16.
Mulock, Miss, 299.
JIurray, Grenville, 295.
" Music in Humble Life," 140.
" My Descent into Hell," 311.
■■ My Spinster's Proposals for a
National Jest Book," 133.
" My Wonderful Adventures in Skitz-
land," 140.
" Mystery of Edwin Drood, The," 81.
' Never Forgotten." 222-6.
' Never Too Late to Mend," 283.
' New Lamps for Old Ones," 140, 171.
380
INDEX
" New Magdalen, The," 264.
" Nicholas Nickleby," 117, 347.
" Night ia a Station-house, A," 134.
" Night-side of Nature, The," 313.
" No Name," 222, 262.
" No Thorouglifare," 157.
" Nobody, Somebody, and Every-
body," 133.
Norton, Mrs., 276.
" Old Curiosity Shop, The," 110.
" Old Lady in Threadneedle Street,
The," 140.
" Oliver Twist," 344-9, 354-5.
Oilier, Edmund, 313.
" Once a Week," 72. 199 et seq.
" Orion," 318.
" Our Coachman," 133.
" Our English Watering-place," 183.
" Our French Watering-place," 183.
"Our Mutual Friend," 22, 24, 155,
233.
" Our School," 140, 142.
" Our Suburban Residences," 237.
" Our Wicked Mis-statements," 272.
" Out of the Season," 143.
" Out of Town," 143.
" Oxenford, John," 321.
Palmerston, Lord, 295.
Parkman, J., 322.
Parr, Harriet, 300, 330.
Pat more, Coventry, 307.
" Patricia Kemball," 274.
'■ Pavilionstone," 182.
Payn, James, 24, 235, 310.
Peacock, T. L., 344.
" Peg Woffington," 282.
"Pelham," 24.
'• Personal, The," 189 et seq.
" Philanthropist, The," 135 (n.).
" Pickwick Papers, The," 24, 113, 117,
156, 233, 341^1, 35*-«.
" Pictures from Italy," 355.
Pigott, Edward, 311.
Pim, B. C. T., M.P., 54.
" Plated Article, A," 133.
Plays referred to —
" Amy Robsart," 294.
" Black and White," 264.
" Brigand, The," 12.
" Castle of Andalusia, The," 45.
" Dog of Montargis, The," 11.
" Frozen Deep, The," 191.
" Gamester, The." 43.
'" George Barnwell," 43.
" Happy Pair, A," 81.
" Ion," 283.
" King and His Commons, The,"
299.
" Le Myosotis," 81.
" Les Vieu.x Garjons," 82.
" Little Em'ly," 294.
" Man and Wife," 264.
" Miller and his Men, The," 12, 41-5.
" New Magdalen, The," 264.
" Peg Woffington," 282.
" Prima Donna, The," 81.
" Rightful Heir, The," 282.
" Shilly Shally," 282.
" Unequal Match, The," 50.
" Venice Preserved," 43.
Pocock, Isaac, 42.
Poe, E. A., 93.
" Poor Man and his Beer, The," 202.
" Poor Man's Tale of a Patent, The,"
133, 184.
" Poor Travellers, The," 286.
" Popular Delusion, A," 140.
Power, Harold, 81.
" Preliminary Word, A," 128 el seq.,
135.
" Pre-Raphaelites, The," 170, 232.
" Prima Donna, The," 81.
Printing Machine, The, 111.
Procter, A. A., 37, 286-8.
Procter, B. W., 37, 310.
Prout, Father, 344.
" Public Life of Mr. Tukumble, The,"
344.
Pugin, A. W. N., 171.
INDEX
' Quite Alone," 258, 293.
" Rambles among Railways," 260.
" Randoms," 69.
Read, S., 146.
Reade, C, 280-3.
" Received a Blank Cheque," 133.
" Red Tape," 155.
R^gnier, Mons., 82.
Renan, Jlons., 166.
" Renowned Dog Caesar, The," 12.
" Rightful Heir, The," 282.
Ritchie, Leitch, 111.
Robertson, A., 337.
Robson, Mr. (bookseller), 340.
Rochester, 2, 15, 143, 182.
Rogers, S.. 48-9.
Rome, 227.
" Roundabout Papers, The," 236.
" Royal Rotten Row Commission,
The," 140.
St. John, Bayle, 285.
St. Luke's Hospital, 158.
Sala, G. A., 173, 253-9, 289.
Salding, Augustus, 81.
Santley, C, 78.
" Saturday Review, The," 274.
" Savage, Richard," 157.
School-days at Saxonhurst, 273.
Scott, Sir W., 23, 106, 113-14, 291,
345.
" Second Mrs. Tillotson, The," 36.
" Seventy-five Brooke Street," 73, 222.
Seymour, R., 349.
Seymour's Sporting Plates, 157.
" Shilly Shally," 282.
" Sketches by Boz," 140.
Slttder (artist), 140.
Smith, Albert, 294.
Smith, A. W. W. (Dickens's Agent),
7,8, 182, 194 (n.), 234.
" Spectator, The," 110.
" Spider's Silk," 132.
Spielmann, M. H., 190 (n.).
Stanfield, C, 86, 190 (n.), 232, 273.
Sterne, L., Life of, 95.
Stevenage, 18, 20.
Stone, Ellen, 168.
Stone, Frank, 323.
Stone, Marcus. R.A., 1. 28, 57, 246 (n.).
Stories Told, 41, 45, 49, 54, 58, 88. 91,
135, 239, 284, 286, 293 (n.), 31 1,
343.
" Strange Story. A," 213-19.
Stunt, Mrs., 28.
" Subscription List, The," 132.
Sugden, Sir E. (Lord St. Leonard's),
156.
"Sun, The," 319.
Swift. Dean, 343.
Swift, Life of Dean, 2.
" Tale of Aunt Margaret's Trouble,
The," 221.
" Tale of Two Cities," 201-02. 355.
Talfourd, T. N.. 232, 283.
Taylor, Meadows, 284.
Telbin, Mr.. 172.
" Terribly Strange Bedstead. The."
Thackeray, W. M., 112. 192, 200. 236,
290, 293, (n.), 350.
" Theodore of Corsica," 57.
Thomas, Moy, 308.
Thompson. Alfred. 81.
Thomson, George. 291.
Thornbury, Walter, 202, 302-05, 323.
" Thousand and One Humbugs, The,"
134.
Ticknor (American publisher), 357.
" Tom Butler." 51-2.
Townshend, C. H., 314-17.
" Transported for Life," 133.
TroUope, Anthony, 281, 312.
Trollope, Mrs. F. A., 03, 70, 312-13.
Trollope, Thomas A., 313.
" Two Fair Daughters," 75.
382
INDEX
u
" Uncle Silas," 301.
" Uncommercial Papers," 37.
" Uncommercial Traveller, The,"
235-6.
" Under which Lord," 274.
" Unequal Match, The." 50.
" Unexamined Witness on the Great
Marriage Case, An," 22S.
Van Diemen's Land. 355.
" Van Ploos on Penmanship, Mr.,"
132.
Vanity Fair, 206, 350.
" Veneerings, The," 38.
'■ Venice Preserved," 43.
" Veronica," 70.
W
Warren, H., 282 (n.).
Webster, Mr., 50-1.
" What Christmas is
older," 147.
White, Rev. Mr., 136, 299.
Whitehead, C, 157.
as we grow
Whiteside, J., 301.
Whitings (printers), 354.
" Whole Hogs," 152.
Wigan, Arthur, 184.
Williams, Montagu, 290.
" WiUing to Die," 302.
Wills, W. H.. 20, 32-4, 40, 52, 119, 124
135-6, 141, 151, 159, 172-3, 176,
178, 181-2, 194 (n.), 202 (n.).
216, 229, 233-4, 239, 269,
271-3, 286, 293 (n.), 297, 309,
319, 321, 324, 370.
Wilson, C, 291.
" Woman in White, The," 203, 261,
264.
World, The, 290.
" Wreck of the ' Golden Mary,' The,"
UlS.
Yates, E., 20, 190, 289.
" Yellow Mask, The," 272.
Yelverton Marriage Case, The, 227.
Yonge, Mis.?, 299.
Young, Harriet, 81.
Zoological Sessions, 132.
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